


Givin' It to the Birthday Boy

by Anonymous



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Edging, Humiliation kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teasing, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-02 05:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 40,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20270629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's Roger's birthday and so John 'gifts' him with a plug he must wear all day long.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I write birthday fics like a maniac. This is a little early for John but hopefully I'll finished the next chapter too.
> 
> This is my first time writing smut so I accept concrit. I have literally no idea what I'm doing.

People thought of John Deacon as the quiet member of the band. They were wrong, they were very wrong. Sure he was shy in front of people he didn't know but in private he was lively and opinionated. In bed he was bossy and commanding, by far the most out of the four of them. John liked to be in charge and the boys like him in charge. He's very good at it and quite sexy. 

So it's not surprising that it is all Deaky's fault of how Roger ended up like this. A panting and trembling, mess, as he tries his best not to move, watching sweat slip down his nose and slowly drip to the carpeted floor. There is a vibrating egg shoved against his prostate and a thick plug to keep it in place. It buzzes unrelentingly against his most sensitive spots but possibly worse is that any movement Roger makes causes it to shift and grind against his prostate. He had been needing to come almost as soon as it was put in. It had all started this morning... 

Freddie's singing in the shower woke him up. Freddie, who sweated during the night, always took a shower in the morning. He obviously had a lovely singing voice and honestly it was Roger's favorite way to wake up, much better than the shrill sound of his alarm. The only downside was that between Brian and Freddie there tended not to be any hot water left for Roger.

Roger slowly shifts in bed so he was lying flat on his back. He stretches his arms as he aligned his shoulders and hips. He yawns and flutters open his eyes. John is sitting at the end of bed with his hands folded in his lap. When ever John actes particularly demure, such as straightening stiffly in his chair, crossing his ankles or folding his hands it was a sign of things to come. Those things being hot and heavy. 

Roger gulps as he clutches the blanket to his chest and sat up on his elbows. His stiffy, his regular morning wood, twitched in terrified interest. John's idea of fun was generally involved intense sensations and edging. Delightful at the end and worthwhile but slow torture before hand. "Good morning Roger. Happy birthday. How was your sleep?" John asks like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. That tone of voice certainly confirms what the body language suggested. 

"Good, good, thanks. And you?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'm going to have an even more enjoyable day. I have a -" John censors the word he first thought of, "surprise for you, in the kitchen. If you're interested?"

Roger is interested, Roger is very interested. He can feel his blood rushing south and his mouth salivate. He licks his lips and sits up fully. The blanket pools at his waist and the tiniest of friction caused by the blanket's weight already has him thinking strictly with his dick. Roger is only wearing boxers and leans down to the side of his bed where he threw his trousers from last night. "No that won't be needed." John tuts. 

Hesitantly Roger straightens back up and lets John lead him out into the kitchen as the sound of Freddie serenading the bathroom tiles to a Buddy Holly song grows fainter. He's nervous, but it's the good kind of nervous like from a roller coaster or a first date. They've known each other long enough that whatever it will be, it'll be good.

Roger stops walking at the threshold of the kitchen. Waiting on the table is breakfast and a enormous thick teardrop shaped plug and a much smaller egg shaped toy. The egg comes on a string and is the kind that vibrates. Brian is sitting there with a rather regular, proper smile but for the light blush at the top of his cheeks and evil smirk lingering around his lips. "Happy birthday Roger," he says mischievously as he spreads jam on his toast.

"Um, yeah, thanks," Roger's mouth says automatically as he looks at the toys. John is standing right over his shoulder, breathing down his neck. He's never had one that big before because honestly there was no need. The amount of sensation caused by the ones he already had were more than enough, this... This would leave him completely incoherent. Roger can only imagine as he tries to look at the monstrosity without widening his eyes. He doesn't think he's succeeding. 

"This is for you Roger," John informs him as though there is any doubt.

"Uh-huh," Roger agrees wordlessly as his head bobs. 

"What do we say Roger?"

John has a cold hard look in his eyes. "Thank you, Sirs," Roger answers politely, something tells him today is going to be challenging enough without acting bratty or earning a punishment. John rewards him by stroking his bed head gently into place with his delicate bassist's fingers. He trails his fingers Roger's face and strokes his index and middle fingers softly over Roger's lips. He cups his face and leans in slowly. Deaky bumps Roger's nose as Roger stands there unmoving, almost unbreathing, and slowly John turns his head and presses his dry lips to Roger's. Roger feels like his soul is leaving his body. His heart is racing in his chest.

Deaky crowds Roger against the table as he pushes his tongue into Roger's mouth. The kissing is slow and sensual. Slowly becoming wetter as their mouths get widder. John pins Roger tighter against the table, pressing his pajama clad thigh against Roger's half-mast. Roger's body has started to get use to John's sadistic teasing games and should know better than to get turned on before any of this has really started but he can't stop from being hot and bothered. 

John slows down the kissing. Retracting his tongue and becoming closed-lipped. Roger wants to chase after John, to get the intensitivity back but instead Roger physically distances himself to help his control. John takes a step back and Roger, pushed to his toes, falls back to his feet, no longer crushed to the table. 

There is the clicking of silverware on china as Brian crosses his knife and fork on his plate. Roger looks at the table he's been pressed against. There are only two other plates set out. They normally all eat together but if Brian's already done and there isn't a fourth plate... Whatever is going to happen next, whatever Brian is going to do to him. Roger's not going to be able to eat. It makes his dick pulse as it starts to leak precum.

Brian pays Roger no mind as he goes to the sink and slowly (at Brian's usual grandpa speed) starts to clean the plate. Freddie arrives partly dressed in his trousers with a bathrobe and a towel for his hair, leaving his carpet of chest hair exposed. "Hello lovelies. How are we? Oh, hello, darling." Freddie says as he approaches with a dark glint in his eye. He gives Roger the once-over, lingering at his kissed lips and tented pants. "I do hope I haven't missed anything," he kisses Roger deeply making him moan. John is a carefully restrained force of nature but Freddie is a wicked seductor who never holds back. He gives it to Roger aggressively, folding him backwards over the table as the kiss turns sloppy. 

John clicks his spoon against his cup and Freddie starts to back off, giving him one last peak on the lips before taking his place at the breakfast table. A randy, sleepy Roger is left dazed leaning there. "Brian," John addresses with authority. Brian places his clean dishes in the drying rack and replaces the dish towel on it's handle. "Come here. Turn Roger over." John is sitting there, his demeanor only a little stiff but his actions are casual, as he stirs milk into his coffee. Freddie looks a little more riviated, staring intently at Roger's exposed body, barely paying attention to his breakfast. 

Roger carefully doesn't move without being addressed. Brian places on hand on Roger's hip and the other on his ass so he can rotate the drummer to be facing the table and its inhabitants. "Push him down. Flat." John continues in his stern Dom voice. 

Brian's hand pushes not un-gently against Roger's shoulder blades and Roger allows his body to be moved. Roger's bare chest and face are pressed down against the cold grain of the wood. He's burning so hot inside, his whole skin feels chills and goosebumps break out. Brian keeps one hand in the center of his back while the other roams to grab one of his asscheeks. He squeezes it. His other hand joins the kneading of his ass. Brian stretches the fabric of Roger's boxers and pulls to give him a wedgie like sensation. But rather than painful friction burn, Brian drags the taut fabric between his cheeks and tight against his sac. "Ahh!" Roger vocalizes in response to the sensation. 

Brian plays with Roger a little bit more before John's voice again directs the scene. "Lower his boxers." Bri gives Roger a firm smack on his right cheek. It makes Roger tense all over and shoutout in surprise rather than pain. Brian hooks a single finger on one side and slowly drags the material over his now sensatisted ass. Brian pulls it off the skin and lets it snap back with a painful 'thiwp' sound. "Damn it!" Roger curses at the flicking sensation. Brian laughs as he stops his bullshit and finally free's Roger ass of the boxers. His dick is pinned between him and the table, the grains of the wood causing the lightest friction. Brian leaves his boxers around his ankles, by act trapping his feet together. 

Brian pulls Roger's cheeks apart and blows cool air at his center. It makes Roger shiver. And then John, that fucker, asks Brian to finger him open. So Brian, with his terrible long calloused guitar fingers and his in his infuriatingly calm demeanor, does so. Brian likes to take his time to the point of torture. And Roger is just going to have to lie here and take it. 

There's a big tube of k-y on the table, surely brought to the kitchen by John. Brian serves himself and circles Roger's whole. Brian moves it such a flicking matter that it gives Roger the sensation of his calloused finger tip and his smooth nail. The contrast makes him tense his tired body. Brian slips his index in. Normally Brian only goes up to his fingernail bed before pushing it further but despite everyone's attempt at teasing and winding up, Roger's body is sleepy and relaxed, so Brian slowly sinks all the way to the knuckle. 

Roger hadn't expected that and squirmed at the deep feeling. Brian slowly, agonizingly slowly, works it in and out, only adding another when an eon must have passed. Roger face frowns and he's feels like demanding for more but he knows only good behavior gets rewarded so he bites his tongue. He's sure today will be hard enough without adding to it. 

The sensation of being fingered is actually pretty mild compare to how Roger is normally treated and yet his pulse is race and he wriggles like a worm on a hook. The other two boys are staring at him. Looking at him, and all over his body. They are intently watching as they continue with their regular daily occurrence that is eating breakfast. 

Roger had always loved being watched and had gotten into trouble more than once because of his intense desire to do it where others could and would see. Being watched by the boys, his dear friends and coworkers, is an even stronger sensation. It coils in his limbs and hitches his breath. This people watching weren't just anyone, not just strangers, but people who's dicks he could recognize blindfolded. And it was turning him on like crazy. 

He could have just come like that, just from being fingered and having the other two boys watch as they ate their breakfast as calmly as could be. Roger loved to be used like that, like he wasn't anything special or meaningful.

But Brian wasn't giving Roger what he wanted - what he needed. As Bri added more fingers he used a stupid amount of lube, that reduced the friction so much, Roger was barely getting any stimulation at all. Since the touching of Roger's dick was strictly forbidden, Roger was left alone to slowly harden, barely keeping it together from the madding desire to get more. Brian had Roger lift one leg up and out to open his legs apart. 

Roger was on a terribly thin edge between arousal and fatigue, resting as he was against the table. Brian was up to four fingers, it wouldn't be much longer now. Hopefully he could get a cup of coffee to help wake him up. It felt like when he was walked up the middle of the night or early in the morning to one of the boys using him. As Roger neared a sleep-like state, it caused his whole body to get looser as he grew more relaxed. Roger could feel the bumps of Brian's knuckles every time he slid back and forth. Brian's natural low voice, got deeper and throater when he was turned on. It was in a partially growl that Brian said, "You're so relaxed Rog, I bet I could fit my whole hand inside of you."

The idea was like a bolt of electricity and made Roger clenched down and moan pitifully. Brian's fist would be even bigger than the already large plug. To be used like that in front of all three of them... Roger could feel Brian's thumb teasing at where his other four fingers were. To be so completely stretch out and open like that, why his hole would be positively wrecked... Roger had never taken two dicks at once up if he was stretched that much, maybe he could...

"Now, now, that's not the plan today. We need to save some for later." John speaks with casual authority as he crosses his ankles and sips his morning cuppa. Brian sighs disappointedly as he withdraws his hand slowly. The sound is positively obscene.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments. Here's another chapter for all you lovies.  
So this prompt came from NightOfTheLand but idk how to contact them anonymously so like if you're reading this, do you want me to include the whole prompt you asked for or to gift this fic to you?

Roger's whole body moves as his chest expands with each one of his breathes. The cool wooden table had turned body temperature as Roger has laid there. The room's stuffy air is doing little to lower his temperature despite being completely starkers.

Roger watches with a pit in his stomach as Brian's thin, long fingers still covered in lube reaches out in front and over the bread basket and margarine to grab first the 'small' vibrator. Roger is sure it's size wasn't going to impede its effectiveness.

It goes effortlessly pass his stretched him. It barely feels like anything going in, only about at thick as two fingers. Brian pushes it at an in-and-downward angel until Roger moans helplessly. Once it has hit his prostate, it has gone as far as needed. Roger can feel the string leading out.

Next Roger watches, completely unmoving, as Bri's hand reaches for the teardrop plug. It feels cool against his rim. Brian pushes it in a single unrelenting movement. The first part goes easy, sliding in easily, but as it approached it's thickest part, probably as wide as Bri's knuckles, Roger's body starts to resistant. The stretch of his rim is painful and then it was his insides stretching that wide. Then all of a sudden, 'Ahh!' it sludds in. Roger let out a scream. His toes curls and he can feel himself break out in sweat. He clenches his hands hard around the table's edge as he let his mouth hang open.

It is causing the vibrator to press unrelentingly against his prostate and Roger can see stars. God can only imagine what it's going to feel like when it's turned on. He can feel himself drooling from his open mouth, his tongue slides out but he is in no position to stop it. It is just so wide. He can feel the pressure and with every shift of his body as he inhales, it seems to light up his nerves.

"There we go. All in. What a good fit," Brian says as he gently rubs Roger's ass. "He does look like he's enjoying that," John says in a cruel voice that gives Roger's shivers. Roger tries to close his mouth, licking his lips and swallowing the pooled saliva. Every minor pull of his skin causes it to shift and for Roger to let out breathless little vocalizations. Brian slides Roger's boxers back up his legs. He drags the elastic against the grain of Roger's light peach fuzzy like blond thigh hair. As Brian as dragged it slowly over his ass the elastic presses tight against his neglected cock. Roger flexes his fingers helpless to move and save himself from this exquisite torture as to please his boyfriends.

Brian reaches over one last time to pick up a napkin and while his hand clean of the lubricant. The used-napkin is thrown on the table and Roger can feel Brian step back and away from where he was leaning over Roger. The stale air of the kitchen is all he can feel but he still can't move, not without permission. Also, Roger isn't sure he could right now, the pressure of the plug unrelenting.

"Oh, poor Roger, whatever are we going to do with you?" Freddie teases as he trails a black nail polish fingered along the ring of his now empty saucer. "We can't just leave you here. I think we've got work to do in the studio. And you might caught a cold like that, although the view is certainly enjoyable." Freddie slowly stands up, empty plate in hand. On his light dancer's feet, Freddie gracefully walks behind Roger, pauses and then continues on his way to the sink. Brian has taken Freddie's empty seat.

Roger can hear Freddie place his dirty dishes in sink and then his returning footsteps. Again they pause behind him. "Mm, this is a nice view," he grabs one asscheck and squeezes. At this point it's relatively so little sensation compare to the stretch of the plug. "I wonder like the view is in front," Freddie jokes as he slides his cool hands to over Roger's hot skin. Unlike Freddie's copious body hair, Roger has only the lightest of peach fuzz under his belly button as a happy trail. Freddie scratches his nails there against Roger's soft tummy before sliding one down the boxer's elastic. He slides one hand down and gives Roger a single swipe from base to tip.

Roger can't help but to bucks but is careful not to lift himself from the table. That little movement of his body, causes the plug to bang him up inside and he lies back down trying to immobilize himself as he pants rashly in their quiet kitchen.

Freddie slides his hands up so his arms are perpendicular to Roger's chest and then like a reverse rollercoaster belt, he pulls to lift Roger into a standing position. If bucking had caused sparks, this was an explosion happening behind his eyes and throbbing in his dick. He moaned helplessly as he Freddie manhandled him into standing. Roger could feel the weight of the plug pulling itself down and against his hole. It pressed against the vibrator's string at his hole, which was stopping it from closing completely and pulling back and forth over that most sensitive of places, his rim.

Freddie gave Roger a moment to catch his breath. "Isn't it time you got dressed pretty boy? We won't want to be more late than we normally are." Freddie jerked his head in the direction of their shared bedroom.

The hallway seemed to stretch out before Roger, how many steps was that? And with each one his one weight would jostle the plug. "What about breakfast? For me?"

"Probably best to stay on an empty stomach for now." John stood up, plate in hand and walked to the sink, he paused behind Roger, placing his chin right next to Roger's neck. "If you don't think you can hurry up and do it, I could always turn on the vibe."

Roger let out an agononzied moan. That would kill him. This was already way to much for a minute let alone if he was gonna have to do it all day. But the egg was a vibrator and if- when it was turned on? Roger would cease to function. The longer he can delay that, the better for his sanity.

"You'll help him, won't you Freddie?" Brian calls over his shoulder as he busies himself with packing away the food stuff and dirty dishes.

"Certainly," Freddie offers with an evil, evil, smile. He throws one of Roger's arm over his shoulder like he does when needing to carry a drunk somebody home.

Roger whines through is nose and tears his bottom lip between his teeth. Freddie does actually help in taking some of Roger's weight. And yet this leaves Roger with an uneven gait as he lands more heavily on his other foot. This jostle everything inside of him and Roger clenches down everywhere, grinding his teeth and trying not to let his eyes roll up in the back on his head.

There's pleasure but more than that, there's pressure. Roger feels stretched wide and stuffed full. With every breathe it is as though there is a weight in his stomach and he can't help feeling constantly aware of it. Maybe once he's more accustomed to it, the pleasure will be more pronounced. Roger is torn between deeply wanting that and deeply dreading it.

They step into their shared room and while Roger would normally sit down, he remains standing. The ride from their apartment to the studio will be agony enough. Freddie smirks at him, well aware why he is standing. "Let get you dressed," Freddie says as he claps his hands together, "Something light yes?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm already sweating."

"I'm afraid that I can't letting you go to the studio like that," Freddie says as he looks over Roger's body. Roger is the least skinny of the four of them but that's barely saying anything. He's of a healthy body weight with a slight pudginess to him. His skin is flawless, scarless and basically hairless. He's pale but for the light tanning of his face, neck and arms. His hair is still a mess from sleep. His cheeks are flushed red and he's indeed started sweating lightly. Naked but for his tented boxers. Freddie let's his gaze linger a long time. The view's real nice and Roger loves to watched although it makes him squirm and twitch. "I'll fetch a towel to dry you. Decide what you want to wear." Freddie leaves with a mischievous hand wave and a 'ta' thrown over his shoulder.

This leaves Roger alone to pick his outfit from the dresser drawers. To bend down and collected the need clothes. Freddie, that rotter! Roger fumes as he carefully totters to the right side of the room. He carefully places his feet down slowly, first heel then the ball before moving his weight. It's a slow awkward way to walk but it does work. When Roger has taken the three steps, his pulse is pounding and his rim is tingling but Roger hasn't spontaneously exploded, so it is technically a win.

Now that he's arrived at the dresser he opens the top drawers without bending. Only socks, belts and underwear are stored in the top drawers. Roger takes a pair of balled up black cotton socks, they are least warm of the lot. But not very useful in dressing Roger. Roger smiles to himself at the thought of just showing up to the studio in boxers and socks, which was of course, not technically naked. It's funny until it's not. Roger feels his ass clench down on the plug. Oh God. Having everyone watch, everyone see. John Harris, Mike Stone and Robin Cable. What if Mr. Sheffield was to pop in for a visit? All those men seeing him like, so affect by a stupid piece of plastic. Their eyes on him...

"Oh, did Freddie leave you all alone?" John asks solicitously from the doorway. "Getting dressed I hope? I did tell you not to dotle."

Roger tries to open the next drawers down but he can't reach with his arms without bending down. He backs up and takes in deep, steady breathes. He carefully tries to bend his knees, to squat, to lower himself without moving his hips. He squats a few inches when it starts to happen. The sensation of pressure on his asshole grows. Without his cheeks to keep it tight, mere gravity was to push the toy out. He straights up as soon as he feels it but he over balanced. Falling -and landing on his ass- will be terrible, absolutely awful. "Oh fuck!"

And yet Brian and John are there to catch him. "Holy shit!" The toy is bumped and Roger whimpers pathetically but other than that, no damage is done.

"Easier there Rog, a tumble would really put you in quite a state," John sounds like he regrets not being able to wreck Roger right here, right now and must instead wait throughout the day.

"Do you know what you want to wear?" Brian asks, actually a helpful soul. He's rummaging in Roger's drawers and has pulled out some options. Deaky flopped on the bed to watch them.

As terribly unfashionable as shorts are in the city, Roger thinks it'll be the best option. As for the top, Roger doesn't own any plain white tank tops, but rather has one with green and yellow stripes. What shoes is he going to wear with this? Surely not scandals.

Roger had successful been able to focus on something other than the unrelenting pressure in his ass when Freddie showed up from behind and gave him a firm smack. Roger squacked, embarrassed by the noise but also it has pleasurably nudged the plug right against his sweet spot. "Oh sorry dearie, did I touch something sensitive?" Fred jokes as he rubbed a damp towel on Roger's thighs sensitive thighs.

Roger has something he wants to say, something along the lines of 'yes you tosser what's wrong with you,' but Roger really does want to be on best behavior. Especially after getting such a Roger-centered gift. "I- I- Please Sir-" Roger doesn't know what he's going to say. He needs to kiss Freddie's ass but he also genuinely doesn't know how he'll deal with the plug all day without losing it. It's just so big and omnipresent.

"Oh? How kind of you pet. What good manners." Freddie twirls a lock of Roger's hair. "Here let me swipe you down. Have you been good for Brian?"

"I-" 'I hope so.'

"Just considered about wearing shorts. There are so unfashionable," Brian teases, "And what shoes will he ever wear with them?"

Freddie laughs softly. "Nice to know, no matter what, somethings never change. I might have a skirt you can borrow."

Roger can feel his cheeks flame. He already looks enough like a girl and with him growing his hair long it's only gotten more pronounced. And Roger didn't like it when he was strangers, often drunk, called a girl or hit on him. Because - and Roger hadn't told them yet- being called a girl made him feel shameful and embarrassed but also pretty and desired. Basically the perfect cocktail of what turned Roger on. So Roger had toyed with the idea of crossdressing. What it might look like, how it might feel. Silk stockings, makeup, a bra, a skirt.. And to have other people and to see him like that. But for the moment it is a secret and not even the boys, who know seemingly everything else about him, know this.

"I might be alright in like silk trousers." Roger says to jump back on the subject.

"Mm, well it's better than denim but that's easy, here you can try these on later." Freddie offers as he pulls something out of the pile. The boys, especially Roger and Freddie, have a mountain of clothes and they are always wearing one anothers. It's convenient that they are all more or less the same size and height.

Freddie turns his attention to Roger with the washclothe. He tenderly wipes him down starting with the areas he's sweated the most, his pits. Then he lovely does the rest of his arms and back, falling on his knees to do Roger's legs. Roger's a little ticklish behind the knees but other than that, he feels clean and refreshed at the chilled water on his skin. Freddie then sits up a little and his mouth is a crotch level.

Roger thinks he would lose it if Freddie sucked his dick. Hell he'd probably lose it if Freddie just licked his dick. Not to mention there's no way that Roger could keep standing.

But Freddie just teasingly leans in and blows cool air over his boxers. He sensually rubs the wet washcloth up and down Roger's belly, lingering on the down stroke as though he might slip under the waistband. Freddie then slowly comes first to a knee and then standing as he does the torso. He ables pressure through the fabric to knead Roger's pecs and circle his nipples.

'That motherfucker,' Was Roger's first thought but what he actually said was, "Please Sir, I need to get dressed. To be on time to the studio we need-"

John sneers from the bed, "Since when have either of you two been on time or been interested on being punctual?" Roger has the feeling that John isn't going to be stopping being terrifying until he's made Roger cry. The mere sensation of the thickness of the plug is going to be giving him that probably before lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing hard to get this up so quickly. Hope it continues to please. But now I need a break, I tried to write for like two hours today and my brother kept picking fights with me. To quote the french; tu cherches la merde tu vas le trouver. (you searching to get fucked up you will find it).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to JRD !!

Freddie stops harassing Roger to move onto the main event, getting dressed. "I'm thinking socks and trousers first. Now do you want to try to do it standing up or sitting down?" 

These are both terrible options and Freddie is actually the devil. "Standing up."

Brian kneels before him all pretty like with his open button up, luscious curls that demand to be yanked and little pink mouth. Maybe this would be easier on Roger if all three of his boyfriends were walking sex-fiends. "If you lift up your foot, I can slide on your socks. Freddie help him keep his balance please."

"Why of course?" Freddie says and Roger is already tensing.For fuck sake! What now?!

Roger watches Freddie suspicion but Freddie merely places his hands on Roger's shoulder for balance. Roger slowly raises first his right foot. Brian, good soul, doesn't do anything treacherous like tickle Roger's sensitive arches. Roger tries to stop focusing on the sensation in his body by staring at Brian's mouth, at just the right level to- One sock on and then the left. More complicated next are the shorts. At least they aren't trousers, those would be much hard to step into. Brian pools them carefully on the floor so they have the two leg holes. Roger then steps into the them without problem. Brian glides them up to Roger's waistline and his fingers linger as he does them up but he doesn't cop a feel. Brian slided the end of the vibrator's wire, with the remote and clipped in to Roger's belt loop.

Roger lets out the breath he was holding, that was almost effortless, "Thanks Bri-" Freddie pokes at Roger's knee hard from begin making one of his legs go out from under him. It jostles the plug and Roger cries out as he falls forward and steadies himself against Brian. "Jesus christ, what the fuck Freddie." Roger says without conviction. He's a whisker away from the lovely Brian and the sweet mouth he's been staring at. It looks even more inviting up close and Roger knows exactly how it feels. Brian is his regular self but Roger is on edge, turned on, and sleep rumped. 

"My apologizes, I'm just so clumsy," Freddie says as he reaches out and yanks Roger back to where he was standing, off of Brian, jostling him again. "For shit stake!" Roger complained. "Shirt now," Freddie says business like. There's is no rebuck of Roger's behavior or language because Freddie knows he can't defend his own. 

Roger was capable to put this on by himself. He was against button up shirts for casual wear and instead slipped on a cotton-tee. Freddie had his firm chest pressed to Roger's back as he threaded a belt on for him. Roger was sure Freddie was going to cop a feel. "I must say Roger I love the way you look," Freddie said as he scrapped his nails right up Roger's belly button. Fred was known in there group as quiet the chubby raiser and although everyone in Queen where twigs, Roger by far had the most healthy, soft, body typed that Freddie preferred. Roger had always had his pretty face, it was just the way he was born and there was nothing he could do about it; however, having Freddie's favorite body made him feel warm and loved inside. Especially when the boys cared for him and feed him.

He found it a little difficult not get his head stuck in it without shifting his feet. "Maybe if you didn't wear such tight t-shirts," Brian teased as he helped him.

Freddie whispered in his ear from behind, "I'm so tempted, angel," Roger could feel Freddie push against the vibrator's remote, "You're so lucky Johnny boy forbid it. For now." The warm feeling turned into frisson of excitement and fear. God bless John Deacon and yet all of this had been his idea so God curse him too. 

Roger took his hair out of his collar and reached for the brush that was on top of the dresser. Freddie pulled him back by his belt loops, "I like your bed head and I think it'll be better this way." He turned to look at John.

John was still sprawled on the bed looking at Roger with heavy eyes, probably thinking of the long term when it would all pay-off for him. "Yes, won't want anyone to notice if something were to happen that might mess up your hair."

Freddie whipped on something to wear lightening quick. He didn't need to make carefully movements. Soon they were ready and they headed out of the apartment. They just had to put on their shoes. As in bend down and put on shoes. Roger was happy he prefered sneakers of platforms. Freddie didn't owe a single pair of what Roger would consider 'regular' shoes. And while Brian has easy to slip on clogs, Roger's feet are too big to fit into his. Roger once had his own pair of clogs but they had been thrown out.

"Bri?" Roger clung to the big friendly giant and whispered in his ear. The others would notice but Roger was still gonna play it lowkey. "Can you- Like with the socks? Can you help me?"

Brian nods. "Mmm. This is going to be a little tricky. Maybe..."

"Roger, lean against the door. Brace one hand on the door handle, I'll take your otherside. You are going to lift one foot and then another. You aren't going to step into your shoes, rather Brian will slip them into your feet. Do you understand?" John ordered about casual, assured of his power and authority.

Brian nodded while Roger answered, "Yes Sir. Understood." He did even say the words teasingly this time. Roger was genuinely happy to have John here to hold his hand and guide him through this. Whatever today is going to bring, people that want what's best for him, that are aware of his limits, mental and physical, are here for him every step of the way. What John wants, John will get and, aside from Roger's wellbeing, John wants to slowly ramp up the pressure. Have it build up on top of Roger slowly suffocating him rather than out right choking him.

Roger is lifts his foot and bends his knee, able to balance himself well enough on one foot that he doesn't put pressure on the doorknob or John. When Brian has to shimmy into Roger's well fitting shoes, that Roger normal slips into with a shoehorn, it's a little more complicated. Roger has to brace himself as the foot movement, causes his hips to wriggle and the plug to shift. A moan builds up in the back of his throat and he can feel the lightest of sweat start up at his nape. He breathes deeply to try and keep control of his body.

Brian puts on his shoes and ties his laces, never once complaining or mention the smell. Roger thanks the both of them and they finally head out, only to be faced with another dilemma. 

They lived on the fourth floor without an elevator. Good thing they were all four fit young men. This did however mean there were sixty steps to the underground parking where John had a van that had been dubbed The Silver Bullet because, appropriately, it was silver. 

Roger balked at the top of the stairs. Sure he had figured out how to slowly distribute his weight from one leg to another to move without jostle the plug but stairs? This was going to be long and difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how long this fic is going to be but everytime I think I can get the plot moving along there's another plot point that adds itself.


	4. Chapter 4

No matter how Roger tried every. single. step. send a lurch through him. His face was flushed a beet red and if anyone saw him they'd know. His dilated pupils and the noise. Dear God above, the noises. He had stopped trying to hold back his moans before he'd even descended one flight. Now he was just trying not to moan so loudly the neighbors could hear him. He was sweating profusely, his hair was starting to stick to his nape and he was sure he'd have terrible sweat marks over his armpits. 

Lust was all consuming. It was narrowing his vision to just the immediate sight before him of just another step. Roger could hardly think about anything but getting off. His dick was trapped in his stupid shorts, throbbing to the beat of his heart. Roger would have soul his right arm and voice if it meant he could get some relief. 

The boys kept herding him forward. Even if Roger took them at a slow grandmotherly rate, every step down jerked the plug in him so it was best if he did them as fast as possible, probably. The boys were saying encouragements, sweet nothings, as he kept moving. He couldn't make out the words anymore, just a white noise buzzing at the back of his skull. Roger hadn't ever, because he couldn't, come without direct stimulation to his cock. But oh holy bugger fucking shit if this wasn't pushing that known restriction. 

The tiniest amount of friction against his cock from him shifting the fabric of his shorts as he moved his legs to walk was almost getting him there. It was a wonder he didn't trip and break his fool neck but he did have his boys that were there attentive and ready to catch him. He couldn't really see them, his vision having tunneled so much with his rising arousal but he could feel their eyes on him, staring at him. 

When Roger hit the landing, he stumbled thinking there was another step. All three of the boys grabbed him, Freddie and Brian by an arm and John by the back of his shirt. "Urgh." Roger tried to thank them. He needed to not move for a while, calm down, maybe have a cigarette.

They slowly lead slash dragged him to the van. The four of them sandwiched between John's Bullet and some neighbour's minibus. They slide the door open. They want him to get in and sit down. Could he do that? He was going to implode. "Roger, Roger can you even hear me?" Oh, that didn't sound like it was the first time they'd said his name. 

"I- Yeah." He gasped and clutched at Freddie. There were tears in his eyes but he was so happy he hadn't let a single one fall. He had been brave and strong. Their good boy. He'd been good and he knew they'd reward him for it, he just had to hold on.

"Lovely, that's lovely darling." The pet names always made all three of them feel soft so Freddie insisted on using as many as possible especially during intense moments. "See if you can't match your breathing to mine," Freddie placed one of Roger's hands on his chest so he could feel the soft up movement as Freddie inhaled. At first Roger just thought of Freddie's gorgeous chest. All that tan skin and a much hair it might as well have been a fur welcome mat. How it heaved when Freddie was giving it to Roger hard and good. Those dark nipples that easily pebbled. They loved to be played with and Roger like to tweak them in his hand or suckle them in his mouth.

Oh they were talking again. "Maybe it is to much," Brian sounds concerned.

"I can- I can be good. I am good. I-" Roger tries to defend himself. "It's just a lot, I'm trying my best I swear. I can do better. I-"

"Oh hush, hush my dear," Freddie cups his face with both his hands and steps closer so they are almost chest to chest. Freddie always smells like delightful perfumes up close and today is no different. "You're doing so well and we are so proud of you. You haven't done anything wrong. We just want to make sure your alright. We are pushing you so hard and it's your first time ever with a plug outside, let alone one this big. We just want to make sure everything fine. Can you give me a color?"

The color system is a popular means of having more nuance than just a safe word that completely aborted a scene. Red for hard stop. Yellow for a small stop that allowed for renegotiation or slowing down. Green for good to keep going. "Green. I'm green just a little under," Roger said honestly. 

The boys looks at each other. 'So soon?' "Alright well here's what we are thinking. Clearly this trousers won't hide anything," Freddie looks down at the obvious bulge. "So we were think Bri would run up real quick and get the groin guard so it wouldn't show. How's that sound, honey?" None of them actually did any kind of martial arts that required a groin guard, they had bought it strictly for getting naughty in public places.

"Good, good. Yes, thank you Sir." It was considerate of them to consider his state and to help him in this way without ending their fun.

Bri ran off just as fast back up the stairs. Freddie leaned in real close and whispered, yet John could definitely still hear, in a low voice, "I know baby boy how much you love to be watched. How much you like to have other people see and look at you. You're so gorgeous. And right now you look like Pure Sex. You look so turned on and desperate. Why you'd beg even Norman for it, won't you? But they can't because you're ours. Although maybe, if it's what you really want and if you've been good, I'll let you suck my dick in front of Harris. You'd like that?"

Roger is shaking, he'd barely calmed down after the flight of stairs and now this dirty talk was going to wreck him. Roger just nods, just trying to keep it together.

Freddie keeps going, "I know how much you like your roadie. He always bending down, on his knees or on the floor with that perked little ass, working away on your drum kit. Do you think he knows what his boss thinks when he see that fine ass wiggle in the air? Would you want him to call you sir? He could call you sir as he fucks you. Always wanted to get fucked by yourself? You narcissistic, but then again you're easily one of the prettiest boys I've ever seen. Maybe you're right, the more the merrier. Mmm, the sight of you two 69ing would be something I'd love to see. And of course, Harris has the same hair and a similar face but he is different in one key way..." Freddie trails his fingers down Roger's skinny arms. "He's so muscular, a real beefcake compare to you. Why, I bet he's so strong he could hold you up and fuck you against a wall. Would you like that? Be pinned against the wall and get pounded by Harris while he called you Sir?"

Roger whines. He's losing it, tossing his head side to side. Without any physically stimulation Roger feels like he's going to go mad. It's taking all his willpower not grind against Freddie and just hump his leg like a dog in heat. He doesn't notice when Freddie looks over his shoulder to look meaningfully at John 'Brian should be back already?' "I- Sir, no- I've." Roger takes a deep breath in hopes to be able to form a sentence. "I- Over the drum kit."

Freddie laughs wickly. "Oh, I see. Have him throw you over the tom-tom and see if the drummer makes as much sound as his instrument if you play him just right. Want him to know what kind of sounds you can make?"

"Only- only if that's what you want- you, you all." Roger stammers out. He doesn't have the added stimulation of walking or moving but Freddie's words are proving more dangerous on top of the enormous stretch of the plug. 

John sidles up behind Fred. "We'll talk about it when Bri gets back but certainly, we could arrange something. We reward such good behavior. It is after all your birthday. Speaking of rewards." Roger feels his ears and cock prick up at the mention. "There are a few options before us and I'll let you choose. We let you come now, maybe with a cock in your mouth, and we leave the plug inside of you. Which means realistically by the time we arrive at the studio you'll need to go again. It'll be like the stairs but more intense and longer." 

Roger tenses, latching on to Freddie's arm for comfort. He'd like to be good for them and pull himself but that sounds like too much even from him. He appreciates John being honest about the challenge instead of sugar coating it. Better to clearly understand and 'yellow' now than to 'red' later. 

"Another option is that we take that plug out and Freddie fucks you. Then we drive over the studio and you reward your driver by sucking his cock. And then we put the plug back in and get to work."

"I-Do I get to come?"

John shrugs nonchalantly but Roger can see the evilness on his face. "Maybe. Freddie thinks you should but I'm not sure, Bri will be the tie breaker."

"I could suck you off before we leave," Roger tries.

John just laughs evilly. "Better luck trying to convince Brian."

Speaking of the devil, although he's been much nicer than the two his morning, Brian arrives groin protector hided in his inside jacket pocket. "Had to make a call," Brian explains away his tardiness. He looks Roger's up and down. Does he still look like a sweaty wreck from the stairs? "I don't know if it'll go on with him so hard."

"That actually want we were just discussing. If Freddie fucks him and he doesn't have to ride with the plug in, should he be allowed to come?"

Brian looks black-hearted as he strokes his chin, "Mm, not sure. If he doesn't have to ride with the plug in we are already being so generous. We have edged you already all morning and who knows how many time we can make you come today. What was the previous record? Five in a day, I believe. That might be fun too. Do you remember how exhausted you had been afterwards? I suppose maybe I could be convinced." 

"Then you're going to love what Roger proposed," John offered.

"I could blow you Sir." Freddie and John both nudge him. "I-uh," Roger tries to think clearly, "May I please suck your dick Sir?"

Brian laughs. That hadn't been what he was suppose to say? Shit.


	5. Chapter 5

Brian nods. "Well I suppose if you're gonna ask so prettily... But then me, are you gonna get on your knees for me the middle of our building's parking lot?"

Roger had forgot they were somewhere semi-public. And yet... and yet their scheduled time at the studio starts at ten which means the garage is mostly empty and unlike to have partons at this time. And they are hidden from view by both the tall the vans. There's only a little bit of danger and that's not a deterrent. It turns Roger on. The idea the people might pass and see a glimpse of him, on his knees, hair disheveled, cock stretching his cheeks. The only real concern is... 

"If Sir prefers we can do in the van. But Sir could be able to hold back his sounds." Roger teases. It's really teasing because they all know that Roger is the loudest by fair, Freddie a distant second.

"What cheek," Brian says in mock insult as he drags Roger in the van by the fabric of his shirt. There's a step up to get into the carriage. Interestingly Roger carefully notices that while going down step was agony, going up them wasn't really different from normal walking. Oh thank god, Roger hadn't been looking forward to the three flights up to the studio.

There are only two seats where three could sit as to make space for easy access to the large trunk place. This means Brian can sit perpendicular to the backseat and spread his legs with plenty of space for Roger to knee between them. 

Roger carefully reaches out and holds on to the back of passenger headrest and Freddie steps half in the van to hold Roger under the arm. Slowly, ever so slowly, Roger sinks to his knees. Compare to the jarring, jolting sensation of the stairs, this is fine. More difficult are the sensations building on top of each other. And like a tipping tower of Jenga, Roger feels like he could fall apart at any moment. Roger carefully kneels without putting all of his ass's weight against his heels.

Brian undoes his fly. "You should open yours too," John suggests to Roger as though it isn't a command. With shaking hands Roger opens his too. The relief from pulling down the zipper against his poor cock is instant and he can't help the sigh. "Take it out," John continues. Roger isn't as far gone as before, when he'd just climb down the stairs, and was sure that the first direct touch to it would cause him to lose it. Roger does as he's told to find his throbbing hard dick making a wet mess of Roger's boxers. The sound of his stickly precum squelches loudly in the quite van. "Oh babe did you get your panties wet? Are you wet for Bri?" Freddie teases.

The heat of Freddie's words contracts with the cool garage air against his exposed dick makes him feel torn in half. Roger's sure that won't last, any sanity that an orgasm might grand him will be striped with the impending car trip but thank god he's at least going to be able to come. 

Brian is holding his cock out. Roger licks his lips, leans forward and closes. It's already half-hard, which means it's not growth to its full size. For the moment Roger can easily take it down for the root and so he does. Brian lets out a wanton moan that is muffled by the van walls. Roger creates suction with his mouth. "Ah shit!" He runs his tongue along the underside as he starts to bob his head. Brian latches onto Roger's hair. Good thing they didn't waste their time brushing his hair this morning. The feeling of his hair being pulled every time he slips back sends arousal rushing through him.

Roger breaks the seal he's breaked with his lips, opens his jaw wide and simply lets the cock slip out as he moves his head back despite Brian's hold in his hair. He looks up at Brian with half-lidded eyes. "Sir?" He asks in a coquettish tone, teasing Brian. Brian is the boyfriend mostly to snap and losing control, giving it to him so hard he feels like he can't breathe. John is hard on him from the start, no need to get him angry which instead leads to fun punishments. Freddie has a master stamina that just keeps on giving it to him. 

Mmm Roger is distracting himself with thoughts of how wickedly his pretty bandmates treat him but a sharp pull on his hair brings him back at the same time Freddie responses to his 'sir' with "What is it pet?"

"May I- may I touch myself?"

"Mmm, I saw how worked up those stairs got you. So here's what I think," Freddie leaned so he was breathing hotly right into Roger's ear and yet loud enough that all three of them could hear, "You can bring yourself nearly there, just as nearly as possible without touching your cock and when your good and ready you'll be given permission. Do you think you can do that, pet? Rub those pretty little pink nipples of yours, I can see them through your shirt, they look like their dying to be played with. And rock back onto that plug, I can tell you aren't sitting down fully, let that let that massive piece of plastic touch you in all those nice lovely places."

Roger gulps. Those conditions are probably the best he's going to get. "Thank you Sir," And then without the need of being told, he sinks his moist mouth back down on Brian and Brian rewards him by losing his grip on his hair.

Brian gets to full hardness. Roger rocks his stuffed ass against his heels. The feeling of fullness is amplified by constant pressure against his prostate, making him moan and squirm, accidently gag on Brian's cock. Roger backs off, unable to comfortably hold it fully in his mouth now. He wraps his hand around the base and licks broad swipes from base to tip before swirling his tongue at the moist head. He can feel a bead of sweat roll down his back. 

His other hand creeps to his front and runs over his clothed chest. He tugs at the cotton fabric and feels the pulling friction against his sensitive chest but it's only light teasing compare to what he wants. It's hard to one-handedly ruck up his shirt but then he feels Freddie behind him lifting it all the way up to rest under Roger's armpits. Freddie's fine pianist fingers run over Roger's pecs and deftly rolls Roger's already hard nipples between thumb and forefinger.

The strong stimuli causes Roger to rock back automatically. There is very little movement of the plug, nothing like being fucked, and yet it is more than enough. He stops his thorough licking to take the dick back into his mouth. He fucks forward onto Brian's cock and backwards into the plug, prementantly trapped in between Freddie's seeking hands. 

Brian is growing close. His hips keep twitching forward, unable to hold still. The fingers in Roger's hair started almost to knead him by scrunching up and then releasing. "Ah, yeah Roger. Mmm so good." 

Freddie too can see Bri is close and speaks in his husky, deep voice. "You're so beautiful like this darling. You both are. Is Roger's mouth nice? It looks like he's being good to you." Freddie directs his next comments to Roger, whose knees are starting to ache from rocking back and forth on the hard van floor, "I hope you're close to baby boy. Deaky said he'd let you come if you had a cock in your mouth but I don't think he's feeling very generous." Freddie gently rolling of Roger's nipples becomes harsher and harsher tugs as the singer's nails start to graze him. This in turn causes Roger to instinctively strap with the tiniest amount of teeth. "Jesus," Brian shouts as he shoves his whole length deep inside and comes. 

With Freddie's ministrations every tug sending bolts to his poor neglected cock and balls. Freddie however removes one hand a presses down against his cock, finally giving Roger some friction and pressure to grind against. Roger intentionally moves his feet apart so instead of rocking back down on his heads, he can slam into the floor. The plug lurches inside of him and Freddie palm remains presses hard against him as he comes pathetically mewling. 

The sound echos lewdly in the van as the sound of Brian and Roger's panting can be heard. The silence is only broken by the sound of Freddie lowering his fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who left me in charge? I have no idea what I'm doing. 
> 
> It's been a while but I do always write. I write about 1k a day but mostly in public so my gen fics get updated faster. Now that Freddie's bday has passed and I've partaken in Maycury Week, I can chill again and get back to this one. I do have three other fics I'm working on and one more challenge but better to have busy work than to grow idle I guess. Maybe if you talk to me on discord if you want faster updates ;) https://discord.gg/A6jqFXp!


	6. Chapter 6

A shiver runs down Roger's spine. He's still out of breath and not particularly ready to go again, both in that he is not remotely ready to come again but also even take the sensation of getting fucked will be too much. But his boyfriends like him used, when he's just been with another and he's all loose limbed and unable to do anything but take it. And Roger likes it too.

"I-How-" Roger tries.

"Brian's going to move and you are gonna lie down on the backseat," Deaky orders.

Christ Roger had almost forgot him. John is sitting in the driver's seat, turned around in the chair. Very little of him is visible. As if hadn't been enough to have two pair of hands on his body, he had had three pairs of eyes on him. But John had been there watching and thinking only God knows what because part of Roger's terms had been that he'd suck him off too. Had John been dying for Roger mouth to be on his dick now instead of waiting? Or had he reveled in waiting as he watching Roger's mouth destent with cock? Did he think of Roger as being used? Just a desperate slut eager on his knees for cock?

Roger is letting himself drown in those thoughts so intensely that he doesn't move after Brian makes space for him. Freddie has to talk more filth to him. "I know our Deaky is hot to look at and you can keep looking but you can only have his cock after. Right now, I need access to this sweet arse of yours," Freddie says as he squeezes it. Roger jerks forward at the contact and feels more intently the plug still in him which will soon come out.

On one hand Roger wants that desperately, to finally be free but on the other, having to put it back in will be terrible. He slowly rises from his kneeling position and rests his torso on the leather seat his ass stick out. Freddie lowers Roger's already open trousers just enough to be able to have access, leaving Roger effectively trapped in place by his own jeans. His shirt is still rucked up to expo his nipples and Roger can feel his sweaty skin cling to the seat. 

Freddie's fine pianist hand grab a cheek and pull it to the side to expose his plugged hole. He can feel cold parking garage air on the gathered sweat. Freddie teases him by racking up his short blunt nails from his tailbone to sack, flicking the plug and his perineum as he passed.

"We should actually eventually show up to the studio," Deaky drawls in his accent.

"Can't leave poor Roy waiting," Freddie says as he grabs the base of the plug. Roger isn't sure if he'd rather have it yanked out in one hard pull or have it teasingly, slowly rocked out. Roger is sure Freddie will pick whichever option will lead to him suffering the most. However it turns out there is no nice way. Freddie pulls unreleventing at a steady but not to fast pace. Roger can feel his hole stretch more and more, almostly painful wide, at the flare before having some blessed relief.

Roger doesn't even feel that much better, just empty. Freddie teases at the string of the egg vibrator, Roger had forgot he even had that in him. "Mmm, think of all the fun that's still yet to come. Should I pull this out or would you rather I left it? Maybe I could turn it on, I'm sure we'd both in join that." Roger gruntes helplessly. "Alright, I do suppose I will be enough, won't I?" Roger nods as frenvently as he can.

Freddie pulls on the string and the odd sensation of it being dragged out of his loose hole is coupled with the feeling of the string pulling at his rim. Then Roger is empty, truly empty, it almost feels weird. It doesn't last long as Roger can heard the sound of the lube conveniently stored in van open. Freddie lubes himself up and slides right in. "Mmm, you're so good like this Roger. All wet and open for me." Roger's head is spinning. He hasn't recovered, not from anything, not from coming, not from the plug. The sensation of Freddie hard dick is both less and yet more. 

"Don't have to finger you, you're all wet for me. Normally I have to let the other guys fuck you to have you so loose and ready but you're like this just because of the plug. Isn't Deaky so thoughtful? What a good birthday present?"

Roger tries to get his tongue to work. "I-Yes, thank you Sir. I-"

"Oh, hush, hush love. You're being so good today, very patient, taking it all like such a good boy. I'm just winding up Deaky." Freddie slowly his strokes to pet Roger's disheveled hair. "We didn't know the stairs were going to be such an ordeal and you did fabulously. And you're going to continue to be good for me, mmm?"

Roger nods, moaning feebly as he tries his best to clench down, the plug has left him loose. Freddie hips involuntarily jerk. Freddie places his hands, one in right above Rogers shoulder and other on his hip. His gives him the leverage needed start up a steady rhythm. With every thrust the bangles on Freddie's wrists clink. Freddie gives it to Roger in deep thrusts, pulling out and ploughing back in. Roger can do nothing but lie there and take it, little 'ah's fucked out of him uncontrollable slipping from his open mouth.

There is little literal physical pleasure for Roger. Even when he was a teenage his recover period was at least fifteen minutes. Still sated from his earlier orgasm, Freddie is intentionally not over stimulating him by hitting his prostate on every thrust but rather grazing it occasionally. 

Roger's pleasure is mental. He's of use to Freddie. He's making one of his boyfriends feel so good. They love him and they love him like this. They lust after him, finding him and his body sexy. The desire they have makes him feel hot and tingly. Freddie is clearly enjoying himself, moaning, gasping, grabbing and continuing his filthy tirade. From which Roger can delightfully hear his effect as Freddie starts to lose himself, as his sentence break apart and he starts to slurring his words until only a litany of "Oh, Fuck, God, Roger," comes from his mouth. 

And Freddie is loud. Roger might have a hard time controlling his mouth in the heat of the moment but he doesn't have the kind of volume Freddie gets. As Freddie gets closer the thrusts also become more erratic and harder. Roger's body is sticking so much to the leather seat that his body instead of inching forward with each thrust is rather stuck in place. The sensation isn't really painful, although he's sure to have fun friction burn later, so much intense. The whole of Roger's front is feeling this with everyone of Freddie's thrusts.

Roger tries to wide his legs as to better brace for each thrust but can't do to his jeans confining his legs together. He squirms in Freddie's hold and the narrow backseat to reach with his arms to pull his shirt down. Brian helps to try and pull it down but as soon as Roger unsticks from the seat, Freddie thrust him half-a-foot forward by accident. "Fucking Christ," Freddie laughs exasperated. Roger gets resettled and Freddie hold onto him tightly by his hips. It doesn't take long after that for Freddie to finally come with a loud, triumphant shout.

Freddie drapes himself over Roger, to drained to move off just yet. His harsh breathes sound delightful to Roger's ear. Roger hasn't gotten hard although he definitely feels randy and keyed-up; the mind is willing but the body is weak. However hearing Freddie clearly and thoroughly enjoying himself is very much a pleasure. "I must say," Freddie's breathing is still labored as he comes down, "You were wonderful darling. As thrilling as it always is to have you thrash around like the mouth brat you are, full of passion; there really is something about you all relaxed." 

*Used.* Roger thinks because that's what he is, used. And he loves it. When he's been fucked into submission, used until he's exhausted and can do nothing but take it. Roger loves it, Freddie loves it and today Roger suspects there will be a lot that pleases this desire of them.

"Our bright, clever boy, reduced to such a mess," Freddie teases as he lays a smack on Roger's perk arse. Freddie gently lifts himself and Brian comes in with a towel, left in the van for exactly this reason, to wipe up the sweat. But Freddie has known Roger for years now and really knows how to push his buttons. "Can you imagine what the boys would think if you showed up to the studio like this? You better pull yourself together." 

The thought of all those eyes on him, all those people that respect him, seeing him as a slut, as the slut he is. It makes Roger hot, it feels like his skin is size to small. Shivers rake across his skin like the feeling of stares. "Oh? Did I say something?" Freddie teases as Roger is less than able to be cooperating with Brian. "Mmm? Perhaps you'd like that. We could call for a cigarette break to empty out the control room and we take you right there over your drum kit or maybe on my piano. But maybe it'd take longer than that, maybe we wouldn't quite be fast enough and the could all watch from the booth how much you loved to get fucked."

Roger squirms and moans, the mental image clear and stimulating. "Which can only happen if we actually do manage to make it in to work today," John calls out from the driver's seat a fire burning in his eyes. As much as Roger might like to joke that the fire is for John's work ethic, he knows John is just keep his powder dry for when he's actually going to get Roger. 

"Right sorry then, best get to it. Brian got you all managed?"

Brian had strapped on the groin guard to hide any possible future erections and wipes him carefully free of sweat the only thing was... Roger is to make the car trip without putting the plug back in which is the whole point. Not only giving him some sweet relief but spared him the agony of how the car's vibrations and movements would feel. The only downside is that now Roger is going to leak cum and lube into his boxers if he goes unplugged.

Freddie and Bri seem aware of this as they clean him up the best they can with towel . "Shame we can't plug you back up and you carry my cum inside of you all day. Mmmm," Freddie smiles wickedly, "We'll know better for the trip back. Just sit on the towel until we arrive."


	7. Chapter 7

The ride proceeds without incident. If anything the ride is blessed relief from everything that's happened this morning. Roger can finally relax and exist without the constant pressure of the plug let alone the jolting strikes to his insides with every move. 

He feels awkward sitting there with his trouser down under his arse but honestly the humiliation and shame associated with it are kind of working for him and Freddie isn't letting up now that they have hit the road. Freddie scratches his nails lightly right above Roger's penis through his hair. The sensation isn't purely exortic as it isn't particularly an erogenous zone and yet that area is never touched in a nonsexual prelude. "Can you imagine what a copper would say if he pulled us over? What you'd say? I'm sorry officer, I just couldn't put my trouser back on because I didn't want to dirty up my pants from my leaking, gaping hole. You see Sir, I'm dripping. My boyfriend fucked me raw after splitting me open on a plug the size of-"

"We're here." John interrupts and Roger whimpers. Either from relief at the end of his torment or from the denial of getting anything but teased. 

Freddie claps in sheer glee. "Lovely you know what that means-"

"Brian will be putting the plug back in," John says, laying down the law.

Roger does the opposite of letting out a sign of relief. The plug in first? He'd have much rather blown John without it in. 

Freddie mock pouts. "Why, don't you trust me?"

John just rolls his eyes lightheartedly. "If I ever need someone to harass Roger into losing it, I do have your number. But as it is, we want to get into the studio without it looking like we dragged Roger out of a gloryhole."

Freddie eyes twinkle mischievously at the comment but he just says childishly, "Killjoy."

Brian has Roger turn over the back seat so his knees are on the seat and his face near the headrest. Brian relubes the egg and pushes it just barely past Roger's rim. Then he goes to push the plug and tries to get it in all one go. Roger does his best to be relaxed and take it but the flare base is too much against his rim and Roger cries out as he rocks forward to avoid it. "Sorry Rog," Brian apologizes as he instantly backs down.

"Did you're delectable ass tighten back up in just a twenty minute car ride?"

"Hold on Fred, are you alright Roger?" Brian intercedes.

"Yes, sorry. I am. I just- I just thought it was going to slip in after some pressure like it did before but it- It really started to hurt and I just couldn't help but to jerked away."

"It's alright, you have nothing to apologize for." / "We know you were trying your best." John and Freddie instantly soothe in response. 

"Slower maybe?" Freddie suggests.

"Maybe. Slower and then more pressure at the flare?" Roger offers.

"I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

"Maybe it would be better if Roger put it in, so he can instantly know if it's too much," John proposes.

The other two agree and Roger swallows uncomfortable. He is made to hold the plug against his hole, he feels so nervous and somehow too afraid to put it back in. He's just psyching himself out, once it's in it's not unbearable. It would be 'over'whelming if not for these fabulous three boys to look out and care for him. It's just some mental barrier that's sprouted in his brain and the longer he waits the more reluctant he grows, for no good reason other than it's harder to do it to himself than to have them do it to him.

"Can I change position? I think this would be easier if I was sitting or rather, squatting."

"Certainly."

Roger lifts his knees from the van's seats and places wobbly feet on the van floor. This is getting ridiculous. If he can't find his determination and courage, he can at least do it out of spite. He looks up at Freddie with a 'please' on his lips and there must be fear in his eyes for Freddie understands. A cruel smile breaks out on Freddie's face and he taunts, "What is the matter? Is that one too small for you? Do you need to be spanked before I find someone to put that in you."

Roger feels himself burn with spite and rage, which is easier and comes to him more natural than being meek and submissive. "No Sir." He holds the end, now started to drip with the lube that has dribbled down, and pushes it up into himself. He takes a deep breathe and lets it out as he pushes. He can feel his rim protest and pull at the flared and end before his body sucks it up and the whole thing slides inside. 

Roger breathes carefully and places a hand on his abdomen. The unrelenting pressure is there again. Rather than stand up to redress himself, he carefully lowers himself to his knees-

"I've decided. That for the moment I'd rather wait. We are late enough as is and sometimes things are worth waiting for. I can't promise I'll last long at this point so I think I'd rather Roger was right on the edge with me," John says as he and Freddie both offer to help Roger stand by lifting him by his arms.

They gently ease him up and Roger can feel Brian's hands come around his waist. Now that he's not completely overstimulated and deep into headspace, he's feeling too bratty to allow it. He slaps Brian's hands away saying, "I'm not actually a child, I can do up my own trousers!"

Roger knows as soon as he's said it that it's coming to come back and bite him in the ass. "My, my, look who's finally awake," Freddie teases. 

"The days just began and you've already been through a lot so I'll let it slide but I am hoping for an apology," Brian says in his 'not angry but disappointed' fatherly voice.

"I suppose we should go easy on him, he is the birthday boy," John says with an innocent look as he passes Roger and slaps him hard in the ass.

The smack causes the plug to jounce and Roger clenches his jaws as he holds on to Freddie. The car park has a ram which they take instead of the stairs. For safety reasons either of them lead directly into the building and they must instead use the front entrance. "It's good to see you in such fine spirits dear. How are you feeling? Color?" Freddie asks outright. 

"Green. I'm fine although my nipples are little chaffed from the leather of the carseat." There is also the odd sensation of the straps from the groin protector but for the moment no discomfort. He does however know for experience that when hard, especially for long periods of time, it's tortuous. Roger pulls at his shirt and runs a hand through his hair. He's hoping to go for just rolled out of bed rather than got fucked downstairs. 

"That's as good as it's going to get now so stop fidgeting," Freddie whispers as they enter the lobby.

Roger hadn't forgot, so much had suppressed his own memory, of how omnipresent the pressure of the plug felt. And he's even more aware of it now in the populated lobby. There is security and a secretary at their usual desks as well as a few workers milling around. "It might be a good idea for you to put it on Fred," John whispers as he falls back so that Roger is walking with Brian in front and John behind, a protection sandwich from curious eyes that could see sometime. 

Freddie does as told becoming suddenly larger than life and as grand as if he was kitted out in Rhodes's customs. Not that his current outfit isn't glam. The platform shoes, the pressed skin-tight trousers, half a dozen bracelets on each wrist and a gorgeous print jacket. Freddie's slashes are so dark Roger can't be hundred percent sure Freddie isn't wearing any eyeliner, but can certainly easily imagine the cat eyes. 

Loud and charmingly Freddie greets and flirts the people at their desks. He knows their names and enough personal details to speak provokingly. He tells the secretary that if she ever decides to leave her cactus of a boyfriend because he keeps buying her lilies, a hazard to her beloved cat, he's could make himself available. 

He's generally very distracting and very Freddie that allows them to walk past the lobby and to the staircase. "We can go as slow and as easy as you want Roger. I do understand that you might just want to do them all at once as to just get it over with, what you want, we are here for," John offers solicitously. Roger is pretty sure the offer is genuine, he is just also sure that John loves to watch him squirm and suffer.

"The stairs- going up the stairs should be better," Roger carefully doesn't say 'fine' or 'not a problem' because every step with the plug is maelstrom of sensation. When walking flat he can wobble with minimal movement of his knees which more carefully shifts his weight from one foot to another. There will be no such crutch with stairs though. 

"I actually- I called ahead to get us permission to use the serve elevator," Brian finally offers an explanation as to why he was so late coming back down after fetching the groin protector.

"Oh Bri, how thoughtful of you," Freddie squeals as he gives the guitarist a giant smooch. 

Spared the agonizing trek up the stairs instead only need walk to the back of the building for a brief elevator trip up to the third floor. Well not too brief, as they wait for the elevator that inches from floor to floor. It's wide, very large, big enough to carry the drum kits and massive recording equipment. However the simple trip complicates as soon as they pile into the elevator Roger can feel Deaky behind him, tugging at his belt loops. "What?" Roger questions but as soon as the doors close he yelps and jolts forward, nearly shaking out of his skin.

"What, Sir," John corrects him. Roger can barely focus, biting back screams as he clings to the walls and to Freddie. "Not so loud, I don't even the elevator walls could stop your screeching," Roger tries his best to rein in his noises. The thought of possible being overheard though does anything but turn Roger off. "You seem more awake and alert but also bratty. I've told you how I feel about that attitude." 'Shit, shit, shit,' is the only thing going through Roger's mind rather than an apology. "And here we've been so considerate. But maybe if you're fucked out of your mind like this morning, you'll behave better." John leans in so he's pressing Roger against the doors about to open. "Promise me and I'll turn it off."

So many thought are trying to pass through Roger's brain but feel like they are getting electrocuted by the egg. "Argnph-" Is the best he can do. Until he manages to choke down a breath and resettle on his feet a little. As the egg is pressed against the plug, not only is there the vibration where the egg is but throughout the plug. "I- Please Sir." The egg turns off not a moment too soon as the doors finally open. Fortunately the corridor here in the back of the building is empty. They exist the elevator and John stays following Roger with his hands in his belt loop. "I," Roger kind of can't believe he's going to say this, "I want to be good, but what if- what if I want- later um-"

"Freddie sure is right when he calls you a slut," Brian says with lust dripping from his voice. Roger shivers. Brian rarely talks dirty but when he does, it's always so clinic and matter of fact which somehow makes it feel even more dirty.

"Mmm, yes but our slut."

"Is that what you want then? To have me turn it on again? But not now. No you want to have that plug stretch you out and keep you open and loose first. You want to feel it filling you up as you sit, press those sweet spots with every move you try not to make. And then, you when you're nice and wrecked, you want me to turn it on," John threats in deep voice.

Roger can feel his throat go dry. Roger does want that. He likes to hide behind the idea that he has no chose, that his boyfriends initiated it as though he doesn't have free will or a safe-word; as though he does beg to be used and wrecked. 

"Well it's no fun if he gets off in this empty corridor of course," Freddie teases, "He'd much rather it be in the recording studio with all those people around."

Roger's heart squeezes and the blood goes straight to his dick. He hadn't even thought of that. He'd just wanted the vibration when he was more worked up but that... That would be something more. A lot. But too much? With his boyfriends to watch his limits, it could be good, it could be more than good. A birthday to remember. Today is sure to be a harrowing day.


	8. Chapter 8

They finally make it to their studio. As they enter the sound crew wishes Roger a happy birthday. Brian jumps in to apologizes for their tardiness. Brian then engages in some masterful double-talk in which he claims the official reason for their lateness is that Roger is sick, and that the unofficial reason is Freddie. At least Roger probably certainly looks less than his glamour rockself with disheveled hair and a mildly sweaty parlor.

Freddie plays up being a dramatic diva as he did in the lobby, only now instead of being charming, he's irresponsible and wanting to get his kicks while he's still young enough to enjoy them. Roger would feel touched by Freddie's pretending if it wasn't how he actually did sometimes behave. Baker accepts this, what else is he going to do, and they get to work.

Roger goes to sit down behind his drums. He slowly lowers himself and feels the plug shift around. The pressure of the seat cushion against his arse pushes it in just deeper than when he is standing. As if the constant present hadn't been been bad enough.

They lay down the tracks for whatever things they were last working on. It's a good thing Roger is a competent drummer because he's completely check out mentally, instead relishing in the equiste sensations. Roger knows that someone look into their relationship might think of his birthday gift as selfish on his boyfriends part but Roger can confirm that nothing has ever been better. The plug is just on the side of too big that Roger can't forget about it, that his body can't adjust. Having to wear it all day, heights the sensations, letting them build on top of each other. Wearing it under his clothing and out of the house makes him feel naughty in the best of ways. 

It could theoretically, after a while, fade into background awareness. However Roger can't help but to keep fidgeting. He's trapped in a helpless loop, unaware of how it started. Everytime he fidgets in his seat he wonders if the others not in the know, find his behavior suspicious. And time he thinks about all those eyes on him, seeing him for the slut he is, his hole clenches and dick tingles and he can't help but to squirm to feel those delicious sensations. 

It keeps building and building. The sensation ramping up as they accumulated. And as there is more sensation, Roger is more and more self-conscious about the way this reflects in how he must look. Are his pupils noticeably dilated? Is he breathing harshly? And more the more he thinks about how others must know the more he squirms, the more he feels. Perhaps not so much a loop as a terrible spiral.

As much as Roger might like to just sit there and avoid his problems for as long as possible, it's not possible. It takes Brian coming over and looming over Roger for him to focus on his name being called. "Maybe he is too sick," Deaky teases.

"Mmm?" Roger questions as he looks to his three boyfriends sadistic grinning. 

"Well now that we're done with instrumentals. We need backing tracks," Brian says batting his eyes innocently. 

"Vocals darling. Do you think you'd be up to that?" Freddie says with mock concern. 

Sweat trickling down his back. "Umm." The real answer is no. And if Roger was a sane, rational person, that's what he would say. But most sane rational people aren't rockstars (with Deacon being the exception of course). What would be the fun if he just turned it down? "Sure, I can try," Roger can barely get the words out with his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. 

He stands up on wobbling knees. He's not fully hard but enough to make walking uncomfortable. 'Thankful' no one can see as with the groin cup. Brian swings an arm around his waist to guide him to the recording booth but all Roger is aware of is where Brian's arm is pressing against the vibator remote attached to his belt loop. A wrong touch to it could have Roger screaming out in ecstasy. That would surely be noticed by the recording crew. Speaking of them, he looks up to see them through the glass. They mostly have concern for him on their faces.

But Baker looks less sympathetic, probably unbelieving. Although if Roger had a hangover instead he won't have been able to hit his drums at full volume. Maybe Baker just has a more neutral resting face. But Roger likes to project anyways. Maybe Baker is fed up with the band's constant bullshit and drama, maybe he's finally had enough. Maybe he'll bend Roger over that hard oak desk he has in his office and spank him until he forgives. 

Roger shakes his head. He's being ridiculous just because Baker has a bit of authority over him. Roger is capable of at least scoring in his fantasizes someone hotter. Someone like Harris. John Harris is his roadie and use to be the generally band roadie because he was a friend of theirs with a van and will to do some heavy lifting for a buck. Freddie has despaired of all the Johns in his life and had started calling him 'Julie' after the actress Julie Harris. Harris looks a little bit like Roger, with blonde shoulder length hair and blue eyes. But where Roger is soft and feminine, in face and in body, Harris is strong and masculine.

He has a strong jawline and his body is thick with muscles. Strong enough to really push Roger around and over power him. And that maybe one day he'd have enough of Roger giving him lip. Put Roger in his place, take out his dues from Roger's body.

"I don't think he's even remotely listening to me," Freddie's cuts through his wild thoughts. 

"No, sorry." His head is foggy. His whole body feels hot. He looks down to where he's apparently holding a sheet of paper. He's familiar with these lyrics at least so there no need to focus too intently. "Rm," He clears his throat, "I'm good to go."

"Are you really?" Deaky asks, clearly meaning it.

"Bright light good to go," Roger brain's parces as the most subtle way to say green.

Freddie looks at Roger with concern but Roger takes a deep, breathe and squares his shoulders, he can do this. The three vocalists share on common microphone as to have a nice equal sound. Normally, they lean it with every line they sing and then lean back as to not be able to hear their breathing in between. But Roger isn't sure his body can do that kind of movement today and instead places himself at the edge as to just be able to turn his head away.

John retreats to watch them from the control booth. Normally he'd fuck off for a smoke break or just to get away but now John stays and watches, intently. John's eyes feel like they have a literal weight, seering Roger's skin and making feel flush. 

Roger opens his mouth and starts to sing but he sounds breathless and throaty. Brian and Freddie exchange a look over the mic. While Brian's face is more concerned, as though Roger might actually be ill, Freddie has heat in his eyes. Like he wants to rip of Roger's clothing, thrust into his already stretched hole and fuck him against the carpet floor. 

Roger's body is already revving to go and he can't seem to do anything to cool it down. Everywhere he looks there are his handsome boyfriends and his mind can't seem to stop. They finish the terrible take of vocals and rather than Baker's voice asking for another take there is John's voice, "I think that'll be enough. I need to speak with Roger," his voice is tight and restrained. It sounds almost anger, the way each word is spit out but Roger knows, from experience, that that is what John sounds like when he is turned on and done with being teased.

Roger pretends to be rebuked, hunching his shoulders, bowing his head and letting his hair fall into his face carefully not meeting anyone's eyes. Really it's so they don't see the lust on his face and so that mere eye-contact with someone has his brain going off on a terrible, dirty tangent. 

Something else must be said because the whole room is cleared of everyone but Queen. "What was that Roger? Trying to tease me? That's not nice after I was kind enough to get us here on time."

"I-no," Roger shakes his head vehemently. "No of course not. Sir." He tacks on politely. "I just-"

"Couldn't take it anymore? Like a bitch in heat, just begging for it?" Freddie says trying to play up John's anger but Freddie is too playful for his words to sound as harsh as their meaning. "Would do anything for a little release?"

"I-" Roger wants to lie, to say nothing, to say something else that is true but not this. And yet at the same time he wants them to know, he wants them to degrade him and call him a slut and a whore. It makes him feel so hot. "Keep having these thoughts, sir. I'm so- I need it so bad that I-"

Brian leans down as to best make eye contact with Roger. He's trying to be cold because that's the easiest way for him to be stern. "That you what? Slut."

Here Brian swear makes Roger shiver. There was reason that people didn't believe that Brian wrote Father and Son just because it had the word 'shit' in it. He has to tell them now, their expressions will be- "I thought, I thought Baker looked like he was anger with me. I thought about him punishing me over his deck." 

Freddie eyebrows raise under his bangs while a devilish smirk grows on his lips. John looks less than impressed, like a disapproving teacher. In fact much like Baker had looked at Roger. So naturally Roger imagines John in his place and it's easy because John has spanked them all in the past. But never as anything but imminent foreplay. What might it be like if John was to tease them with it? If John was fully clothed and he had them strip off their trousers and bend over the kitchen counter- Roger now knows what that feels like...

And Brian, why Brian, looks positively tickled at the thought of such a dirty fantasy about someone they work with. And turned on. Brian has a professor student kink that can not be denied. The thought of spanking someone of a desk seems to have got to him and probably the authority Baker has over all of them.

Roger waits a beat longer, relishing in the feeling of all their eyes, all their attention on him, before adding, "But then I thought of Harris. He's just so strong- Maybe one day, he'd get sick and tired of my shit and-"

"And dearest Julie will take revenge on his boss' hot body?" Freddie questions, licking his lips, clearly this imagine is even better than the last which is simple as Harris is so hot let alone compare to Baker. 

"Alright for fuck sakes you slut! I'll take in front of Harris, I'll take you in front of Baker, hell I'll take you in front of all of Scotland Yard if we can just fucking get to it. Goddamn are my balls getting blue!" John finally explodes.

"Okay, okay," Brian says in a hush, "Game plan: Freddie stays here to record vocals, just tell them whatever. Us three go find somewhere for John to alleviate himself."

"The bathrooms. Can continue the line that Roger is ill and it locks from the inside," Freddie says shunning them out the studio's other door. Harris is there when they open it looking deeply bored. He stands up straight and looks at them in confusion, God only knows what they must look like. Freddie tries to say something distracting but Harris piercing blue eyes don't stop staring at Roger until he is out of sight. 

Roger feels the heat of his stare linger on his skin even once they've rounded the corner. John is walking with clear determined strides and Roger could bet that John's expression is furious. Brian is hanging back and walking at Roger's slowed pace. With every step his half-hard dick bumps and rubs against the groin protector. The friction is minimal, he's more likely to get friction burn before being off. And yet still it's another stimulus, like the tight material of his shirt against his pebbled nipples.

Brian has a neutral expression as he leans to whisper into Roger's ear. "If we could get Harris- the way he was looking at you- would you really be interested or is that just-?"

Roger whimpers. John flinches at the noise but doesn't look back. Roger bites down on his lip to try and stifle himself. Brian, poliet, proper Brian, inquiring like he's asking about the weather. His plain, simple deliver, as though it was mundane and ordinary, sometimes get to him more than Freddie's dripping-in-sin tone of voice or John harsh judging tones. Now, walking through the halls of EMI, they're employer, filled with regular people just going about their days, is one of those times. Roger feels like molten melt is being poured into him, burning him up from the inside out. Roger can feel with each movement of his arms the sweat that has gathering at his armpits and is making the skin stick to the shirt. His breathing is labored and his vision has tunneled. Again. 

Today is full of intensenations. Thankful they make it to the toilets before Roger collapses or Deaky pounces. Brian clears the stalls and once they have confirmed the room to be empty, John locks the door. Then he turns and eyes Roger with hunger. He leans in slower, getting closer and closer. Roger can see the desire burning in his eyes, maybe have John wait was a mistake.


	9. Chapter 9

John begins a devouring kiss, plunging his tongue and using his teeth. John's hands find their way first to Roger's hips and then grabs his ass tightly, pressing him against John. It's clear that John is hard through his trousers but Roger can't feel anything through the groin protector, he breaks off from the kiss only to beg for it to be removed.

"Hrg, maybe," John spits out, "Gotta make you work for it, you've already come, think of someone else Rog." John leans against the sink and his hands push at Roger's shoulder for him to kneel in his shorts. At least this isn't a public restroom but is rather clean. Still the tiles will feel harsh on his knees. 

He's not at a perfect height when kneeling with John that he can sit back on his heels. Which means he is left to bob and rock his body with his movements. The omnipresent plug feel like it's wiggling with every twitch. 

John whips out his dick. It's so hard, it's tinged purple and already leaking at the tip. John is by far the biggest of the four of them and hard like this it leans to the right. The mere fact that it's so big, it can't stand straight is a massive turn on. Roger isn't as much of a size queen as Freddie but he still can appreciate exactly how much his mouth and throat are about to get wrecked.

He pools his saliva and wets his lips to the point that his mouth makes an audible smacking sound when he opens it. Roger knows that John is in no mood for teasing and doesn't need a lot of foreplay, chances are good that John isn't going to need a whole lot of anything. The urgency of Deaky's pleasure is actually helping Roger be more grounded in his own as he has an achievable goal. First Deacon, which shouldn't take too long, and then he gets to come, hopefully. 

Roger isn't quite like Brian in this way. He can't easily slip into a mind set of bringing others pleasure gives him pleasure. Instead Roger must be brought and led to that mindset with circumstances such as these. Where he is helpless to do anything but to have to give it.

He wraps a hand around the base and places the other on John's hips. John's going to be desperate and with that big of a cock it can be dangerous if it starts thrusting too fast. He stretches his lips enveloping John's cock who moans in sheer relief. Roger bobs his head and follows that movement with his callused hand providing a tight grip. 

John grib on the sink is white knuckled as he thrashes his head about but does a good job not moving his hips or being too loud in the echoing bathroom. Once Roger gets a steady rhythm he progressively takes more and more of it without choking. His singing has actually taught him how to lower his larynx which can make more room in his throat. He can feel his throat distend comfortably as Roger has quite a bit of practice at this even though he isn't as good as Brian. 

Speaking of Brian, he squats behind Roger and whisper in his ear, "Deaky like it when you play with his balls."

Roger isn't sure if Brian is really trying to be helpful. John is on edge after having been 'teased' and that actually doesn't seem like the best way to please John but then if Roger doesn't do as he's told he could get reprimanded and he'd really like to come again. Roger looks up through his lashes but John is too out of it to even notice Brian; his eyes are screwed shut and a litany of bitten back groans are pouring out of his pursed mouth.

So Roger does as he's told, removing his hand from Deaky's waist and moving it to fondling his sac where it's pulled in tight to John's body. John grunts and thrusts his hips ramming his dick in too suddenly, too deeply causing Roger to have to pull off, sluttering and coughing. Deaky tries to scrape himself together enough to apologize. Roger returns his hand over Deaky's hip to hold him in place. And rather than just accept the apology, Roger gets his revenge, a little rest for his throat, by tonguing at his balls. Roger sucks one into his mouth, mouthing his lips on the other, his runs his tongue over and around, grazing his teeth as he pulls back.

Many think that giving a blowjob is degrading. Roger does like it when they say degrading things about him, like he's only something to be used for their pleasure and not a sentient being. And yet despite that Roger feels the most in power like this as he has such direct control of his partner's pleasure. As he is receiving no direct stimuli, he can best focus on this task.

Once Roger feels he has recovered and can swallow comfortably again, he returns to trying to take it in as deeply as possible. He opens up his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue before sliding it in. He breathes steadily through his nose as he takes it deeper and deeper. He can feel his throat distending. He swallows causing John to moan at the sensation but also allowing him to take it even deeper. Once he's taken as much as he can in this position, he needs to be lying flat on his back with his head over the edge of a bed to take it all the way down to the base, he grabs out with the hand at John's base to squeeze John's ankle. 

The four of them have been partners for a long enough time that they have an established system for communicated with each other even when they are unable to speak. Not just safe words meant to stop the actions but also indicators of when to proceed. 

As soon as John feels the hand on his ankle he stops leaning against the sink. He grabs hold of Roger's hair with both hands and pushes his fingers even further in to be holding directly against his scalp to get a good grip. John taps his fingers and Roger takes his other hand to wrap again around John's base. He must be too far to be able to self-regulate and stop himself from choking Roger by thrusting too far. Roger takes in a steady breath through his nose before squeezing his ankle again in confirmation.

John lets out a helpless shout as he begins to face fuck Roger. Roger lets himself go limp as the large cock is thrust in and out. Despite how far gone John must be, he is good enough not to pull out too much, leaving the tip pass his uvula so that Roger doesn't have to swallow with every movement.

Roger quickly gets overwhelmed when deepthroating. He can't take in a breath and so must hope and wait for John to pause. His head is swimming and he feels hot all over. This close up he can't look up and see John's expression, although it's sure to be one of intense pleasure. His knees are aching, his trapped dick is throbbing and his hole keeps clenching as he is rocked by the thrusting. He can barely swallow around the mouthful and can only pay attention to keeping his throat open enough to not gag, which means his saliva is starting to build up and drool out of his mouth and down his chin. 

And just when Roger thinks he can't take it anymore, John pulls his hair tightly, stills his movements and finally comes swearing loudly. Roger does his best to swallow and breathe. John pulls out slowly, stripping his cock with his hand. Roger can feel John's come leak onto his tongue and his airways open up again. It's important that Roger doesn't start breathing through his mouth as to not accidentally make himself sputter. 

Before Roger can do anything more John's voice, still panting coming down from his high, speaks, "Brian kiss him."

Roger had almost forgotten about Brian who apparently watching with wrapped attention as he chewed on his hangnails. Brian looks down at Roger on his knees, hair disheveled, lips swollen, mouth still open. The implication is clear. Brian kneels in front of Roger and delicately takes his face in hand, kissing him opened mouth. The taste is relatively faint and the amount of cum almost nonexistent but just the thought of it is titillating and makes Roger feel like his blood is lava. Brian just did that because John told him too. Ordered him too. It should be gross and degrading and yet despite that it's such a turn on because it's them.

Now that John has come Roger just wants to finally get some stimulation, he's more than recovered from his orgasm before they drove over here. His kiss with Brian grows hot and heady. Roger grabs at Brian's shoulders, tugging uselessly at his stupid buttoned up shirt that reveals a tantalizing amount of chest. 

The two snogging pay no mind to the sound of John going into one of the stalls to get toilet paper to wipe up his dick after Roger drooled on it, nor the sound of him then washing his hands at the very sink they are right next to. Not until his voice calls out to them, "That's enough. Don't be selfish you too. We've already been here long enough, we don't want anyone to get suspicious. We'll say that Roger vomited and that's why his voice sounds like that."

The two boys look at each other pleadingly, they both want it, all worked up. As much as Roger would love to be a whiny brat about this to get his way, Deaky has a point. There is the hope that as it is his birthday hopefully the torment wouldn't be too torturous, at least not more than it already has been.

"Don't look at me like that. What about Fred, huh? We abandoned him so we could make a getaway because someone overwhelmed themselves," He looks pointedly at Roger who really feels like that that status hasn't changed. "And now you want to have all this beautiful fun without him? Now is that very good behavior." 

Roger shakes his head petulantly while Brian replies, "No Sir. Sorry Sir." Goodie two shoes. 

"So we are going to get cleaned up," John proposes as he offers one hand to help Brian to his feet and in the other hand gives Roger toilet paper to wipe at his chin and mouth. "To get back to them."

Brian smiles shakely as he stands up and re-adjusts himself in his trousers, "Thankfully we always have you to get us moving so we are always where we need to be."

Roger would really like to say something insolent but he's afraid if he does that he'll really never get to come today. Instead he looks down at the tiled floor that has been digging into his poor knees. His ass clenches uselessly around the plug. He carefully tips himself without falling and braces a hand on the floor. 

"We can help you get up." / "Oh Rog!"

John and Brian speak out at his struggle. They crouch next to him and take an arm over their shoulder easing him slowly upwards. The plug doesn't jostle too badly and Roger is made to stand without being winded. There is no 'he feels it with every breath' or 'with every movement.' He can feels it so deep inside constantly, omnipresent like weight in his gut shooting fire into his veins.

The groin protector continues to provide little friction and yet deny Roger from even being able to press his hand over his trousers and soothe himself. Its jockstraps feel like they are digging into his skin as he walks and it's hard not think of the thing as though it is responsible for his torment. 

They unlock the WC's door and walk slowly back to Freddie. Even though Roger just had John, he burns for Freddie in particular right now. It's because of Freddie's filthy mouth. He'd certainly have more to say about them doing this at work. About Roger's fantasy about their coworkers. The circumstances of his birthday present intentionally leaned themselves particularly well to what gets Roger riled. 

There is the plug itself that is over sensitizing him as it constantly presses on all his most sensitive of spots. It stretches him so wide and leaves him open and ready to be fucked at any moment. He feels it always but it's worse when he sits down or walks or really any movement. But then they have brought their boyfriend, stuffed full and wildly turned on, out of their apartment and into the world. Which causes such delightful shame. 

They entered the control room and Freddie is singing the lead vocals. Once Freddie has finished with his take he comes in and Brian and John tell the story of Roger's vomiting and now sore voice to everyone. Roger keeps his head bowed and tries to look at least meek if not sick. He looks up through is nonexistent bangs to Freddie's eyes which flash with amusement and deep want. Roger looks at him meaningfully and then flicks his eyes to Brian. 

Freddie looks at Brian who is still keyed up and tense in how he holds himself. Fred claps his hands, "Well then, I think it's best we go for lunch now." As they had arrived in the studio late it is actually lunch time now. 

Baker waves them away frustratedly and they go to crash in their rec room. Freddie grabs Roger by the belt loops as they leave the room trailing behind the other two and whispered, "You will tell me everything you did with our darling Deaky won't you?" causing Roger to feel like his skin was one size too small. Meanwhile Brian and John discussed what they wanted for lunch.

"Oh, we should get whipped cream for dessert!" Freddie interjected.

"With what?" John questioned automatically before realising. He sighed exasperatedly at Freddie's behavior. "That'll just have to wait until we return home. We can't make that much of a mess in the rec."

"Party-pooper," Freddie pouted, "You got to enjoy him while I had to work. How is that fair?"

John played his trump card, leaning in so they might not be overheard in this very public hallway, "How is it fair that you got to fuck Roger while I had to postpone my just reward? How is fair that now your cum is trapped up inside Roger, held in place by *my* plug?"

Freddie audibly smacked his lips, "You're right of course. That's not fair either, I'm so sorry for stepping on your brilliance that is this birthday idea, I'll have to find a way to make it up to you." He throws his arm around Deaky's shoulder, stilling holding Roger with the other hand which tugs, "Would you like that Rog? Watching Deaky fuck me?"

'Yes Sir,' is clearly the answer both in that Roger would find it very hot and that it's what Freddie expects as an answer and yet Roger is all worked up and feeling a little more bratty than that. "No Sir, that wouldn't be fair to Brian," Roger finally says in a hoarse voice.

Brian perks right up from where he was walking shoulders hunched in front of them. "What does he pay you to say that?" Freddie laughs. 

Brian turns so they can see the stupid wise guy expression on his face, "Come on now Freddie, we all know Roger prefers to be watched than to do the watching." Brian is both right and being a little shit about it.


	10. Chapter 10

They enter their own private rec room. John automatically goes to lock it before realising that he needs to leave to fetch actually foodstuff. Today favoriting things that were cold after they had been riling themselves all up this morning. 

Brian sits at the table but Freddie makes his way to the couch, "Going to have poor Liz sit on those hard chairs after he was so nice and generous as to think of you?" Freddie says teasingly and yet is true that the non-padded chair would be very difficult on him.

Brian says in his best RP accent, "Oh my apologies Mr. Taylor, I'm sure sinking into the couch will be so much better."

"A little bit actually," Roger retorts, his voice sounds like sandpaper even though John was careful. Brian's not always very gracious at being told he's wrong, although to be fair none of them really are. 

Roger wobbles his way to the couch. "Well if the couch is too soft and the chair is too hard, Goldilocks can sit right here," And he pats his lap. 

Freddie really likes to ride and be ridden. If Roger sits there is a good chance he might get something. There is no question that Freddie will be a terrible tease about it but what matters most is whether or not he'll let Roger come in the end. 

Roger can't be sure and yet takes the gamble as Freddie has already delivered this morning. Roger goes to sit and Freddie stops him, "Hold on, hold on. Chest-to-back, you'll need to be fed and you might need Brian's help to sit down."

Brian doesn't really look like he wants to help him and yet Roger can be sure that Brian isn't just going to be as cruel as to intentionally drop him. 

As soon as Roger gets settled Freddie's hands wonder teasingly over Roger's soft tummy and perked nipples. Apparently with nothing better to do, Freddie taunts Roger. "I want you to tell me how you feel about me playing with your nipples."

Roger opens his mouth then hesitates. If this was John, he'd know how to answer: exact and positive. Freddie however likes answers that fell into a grey area as sometimes he prefered to be teased or denied in return. Roger has never been one to be overly cautious or else he wouldn't have ended up a rockstar with three boyfriends. "I- I like it Sir - hmmm," Freddie rewards him by squeezing hard maybe playing it safe is better. "But it's not enough, I want- I need more."

Freddie smacks his lips, probably at the dry sound of Roger's voice, that made him all the more alluring to the singer that enjoyed his bandmates sloppy seconds. He grabs Roger by the hips and grinds him back on his hardening bulge. "Yeah? You need it bad, don't you? You were panting and particularly begging for it in the studio, willing to bend over for Baker and then John whisked you away but he didn't relieve you, mmmm, did he poor darling?" Roger shakes his head and grinds back on Freddie, pushing the plug deeply and firmly into himself. "What are we going to do about this? What do we want?"

"Brian." Roger blurts.

Brian snaps his head and Freddie says in a pouting voice, "What? Am I not good enough for you?" He scrapes his nails over Roger's chest, who shivers at the sensation. 

Roger shakes his head trying to clear it, "No, no I mean. Well, kind of I - I thought for Brian to get some relief he might like to-" Everything in Roger's life that has led him to this is clearly a mistake. 

"You just thought?" Freddie tries to get a coherent answer.

It's not that Roger doesn't know or can't express the answer so much as he doesn't want to.

Freddie can sense this without being able to see the expression on Roger's face. He spreads his legs so that Roger slips between them. "If there's something you'd like Brian to do for you babe, you gotta ask for me."

"I thought," He chews his lip, whatever there's no turning back, "Might like to blow me."

"How presumptuous of you. You know that Brian is wound up and desperate for some relief and you propose that he should help you?" Freddie's voice is low and terrible but Roger thinks that Brian is so interested, and possibly desperate, that it's going to happen anyways. Brian loves to have things in his mouth to suck on and loves to take care and bring pleasure to his partners, this means that he is willing, eager, talented and well experienced at giving blowjobs. 

"But then again, Brian does love to suck cock. Don't you Brian?" Freddie turns his attention to Brian that is frozen with his hands conspicuously in his lap, as though he might be offering himself some relief through his trousers. "My, my, what sluts I've been left with. Brian, dear, go and lock the door before you come here to kneel and take Roger's cock."

Brian flushes a little but Roger's whole body feels like it has been zapped with a bolt of electricity. Fuck, the thought of the dirty things they were saying, what Brian had been willing to do, all while the door was unlocked. It was unlikely some random person would just come in, expect perhaps a janitor, it would have been one of their coworkers or a member of their crew. 

Harris for example, who had already seen them in compromised position earlier. He could have walked in and seen Roger squirming on Freddie's laps and the pianist rubbing his hard nipples through his shirt. Those blue eyes would have darkened to azure and then- Well in Roger's fantasies anything could happen.

Brian comes back. Roger does his best to spread his legs open wide and Brian kneels before him. Brian looks up at him and deliberately licks his already wet lips. Roger moans preemptively, hopefully this won't just be teasing torment. 

Brian and Freddie work in tandem to open his fly, lifting him off the couch enough to lower his trousers and pants without jostling him and his plug too much, leaving him sitting there with the damn groin protector still on. On one hand fuck that thing for deny Roger any sweet relief, on the other hand it had allowed him to be hard without anyone seeing anything.

Freddie twphs the elastic bands, slapping them against Roger's cheeks before opening them to take it off. Freddie starts to peel the groin protector off when he makes a clicking noise with his tongue. "Brian, honey, we can't make a mess of the couch, could you be a dear and lick as I lift, I'm afraid Roger's leaked everywhere."

Roger can feel himself blush and tense with delicious shame. And true enough as Freddie slowly lifts it up a little and Roger can feel his own precum drip down closely followed by Brian's eager lapping tongue over his balls. Roger moans at finally getting some direct contact and yet it is nowhere near enough. Brian's hooked nose pushes at the protector cup and Freddie obliges by moving it further up until Brian has lathed the entirety of Roger's now completely hard dick. 

Brian takes in the tip and swirls his tongue around it before easily taking it all in his mouth. Roger's cock is technically the smallest of the four, but only by like a 1/2 an inch so he's still in normal range. While it did sometimes chaffs at Roger's pride, there is no one but him and his most intimate of partners to know, it really doesn't matter. It doesn't change his ability to pleasure his lovers and when it comes to receiving blowjobs it's much simpler than Deaky's massive cock. Sure it does mean he'll not be able to experience the apparently unique yet rare sensation that is deepthroating but Roger thinks the fact his whole dick can be taken every time to be worth it. 

The suction of Brian's mouth can get Roger close quite easily. He rocks backways against the couch to get the dual of Brian's mouth and the plug. "Now, now Roger did we think it would be that easy?" Freddie questions. Before Roger can parse the meaning, the vibrator rattles on and Roger shouts uncontrollably, bucking into Brian's mouth and hitting his soft palate. 

Roger's whole body twitches and grinds unrelentingly back on the plug. He can't stop the whimpers tumbling from his parted lips. He's trapped helplessly between Freddie's firm chest and Brian's unrelenting mouth. Judging by the movement he can see from the corner of his eye, Brian is frantically jerking himself off and he is nearly there.

His mind feels like it's been set on fire. He feels like he's not in control of his body, which thrashes about.  
He can't think about anything, this whole world has narrowed down to these sensations. While there are the strongest vibrations deep where the egg is, the whole plug rattles intensely. Roger can't help but to clench helplessly around it and grind back down on it. The vibrations cloud his mind and are a lot more overwhelmed than getting fucked. 

It's so much it starts to ride the line between pleasure and pain when the door knob rattles. Roger's whole body clenches up tightly, he chokes on his litany of moans and Brian accidently takes him in wrong. Cumulatively it's enough to make Roger cling tightly to Freddie's thighs as he comes down Brian's throat who eagerly laps it all up. 

Freddie quickly lowers and turns off the vibrator although Roger can still feel his teeth jangling. He calls out in a mock falsetto voice, "Who is it?"

"Who the fuck do you think it is?" John says from the otherside, he sounds... well angry. 

"Oops, mommy's home," Freddie laughs as he extricates himself from behind Roger and goes to open the door. In terms of dating, it tends to be that Brian is the Mum of the four of them and John is Dad but when they are fucking John is Mommy and Freddie is Daddy for very different reasons. 

John stands in the open door way and his expression is stormy. Roger on the couch, trousers pulled down, limp cock out. Brian on his knees, lips bruised and wet, trousers open and a wad of tissue in his hand. It's not exactly a mystery what happened here. He steps inside and sighs as though put upon. He closes and locks the door. He shakes his head, "I-Hold on," he drops off a bag of food on the table before fetching paper towels and cleaning supplies from the cupboards.

"It didn't occur to one of you not to stain the couch?"

Brian and Freddie carefully avoid meeting Deaky's eyes. But Brian can be heard softly apologizing to Sir. 

Roger slouches there uselessly. His brain having leaked out after that earth-shattering orgasm. Huh, is about the best he can do right now. Stain? On the couch but Brian swallowed it all? Did Freddie-?

"You look like you're going to be useless the whole of lunch," Deaky tsks. Considering that lunch is now an hour and not thirty minutes like it use to be, that's probably an exaggeration. Possibly. Hopefully. Roger just can't quite seem to get up, his bones have seemingly liquified and he can do little but feebly wobble.

"Fred I'm going to say this was your fault and that you are responsible."

Freddie was curiously peeking in the bag. Judging by the lack of appetizing aroma is probably something cold. He looks up like a deer in headlights, "What. Why? How is that fair?"

They are all well aware of how Freddie feels about cleaning but it is kind of fair to blame it on him. "I'm not sure if it's fair yet but as you are the only one really coherent, for the moment it's you."

"I can help Sir," Brian has caught his breath and is pulling himself together. Roger is pretty sure he should be doing that but his soul has yet to return to his body.

"Hi Roger. I'd like to lift you off of the couch? Can you give me a color?"

He's been asked this question a thousand times and it's always the same answer so he trips over the change, "Gre-Orange I need- I just need to recover."

"Okay, thank you for telling me that and being honest. That's very good."

"But I'm okay to move, just gently and no more right now," Roger decides.

John slides his arm under one of Roger's shoulders to pull him up. Roger can feel where the lube from around the plug has leaked out and has stuck his skin to the leather.

"Oh yes, what a good boy, just sat there while we gave it to him," Freddie continues with the praise.

Roger is trying to get his knees to work but something rings false. Deaky clears it up by speaking, "Oh come now Freddie, you got him this morning. Are you being greedy?"

Freddie mock pouts as he disinfects the couch. "Hey, Brian got to come twice."

"So did Roger," Brian says without hesitation to throw the blond under the bus. 

"Yeah and it's Roger's birthday. But a mouth isn't the same and only you've gotten to fuck Roger today."

"Normally I would agree with you and I do thank you that we didn't all wait as was originally planned, however today Roger is-" Freddie clears his throat. Roger can feel himself stiffen. Heat floods his face and shame burns his ears. John looks meaningfully at Roger tensing in his hold which gets Brian's attention from where he is wiping with a rag. With all three of his lovers' eyes on him Freddie continues in a voice that has dropped an octave. "Today Roger's hole is so loose from that absolutely enormous plug that's been shoved in him all day."

There is absolute stillness as everyone processes those words. Holy shit. Roger sense of shame is so strong he feels his heart slamming in his ribcage and the immense desire to run away. And yet it burns so hotly in his veins that it causes his dick to twitch and feebly try again so soon to rise. 

There's a thought, a sentence, a phrase, an idea, that runs rampant through Roger's mind as his band members stare at him with lust and desire. The idea is so vibrant in his mind and yet without it being spoken it is as though he is thinking illicit thoughts. Roger toys with the idea for a moment more, tenderizing it between his teeth as it sits at the tip of his tongue. He can imagine what will happen when he says it, how they will react and how their reaction will make him feel. Shame, like he is lowly and wanton and then desire strong and sudden. 

It looks like no one else will speak, that they will go back to the business of having lunch but for a moment more there is the tense atmosphere Freddie's words have created. "Loose enough that I could take two at once?"

If the room had been tense before it's nothing compare to the electricity that seems to crackle in the room. It feels like at any moment one of them might chomp at the bite, thrown Roger over a the table and rid him of his trousers and plug. "That- We are at work," John ground out, his eyes were burning although Roger suspected not from hatred so much as passion that had to wait. He took ragged steadying breath, "We are going to sit down. We are going to eat lunch and then, we can see if we have enough time for something. Not that-not here, especially for your first time not without a bed- but if we need any relievement," He cut a look towards Roger, "Hopefully you will be well enough to finish what you started."

"Unless it would be more of a punishment for him to watch?" Brian proposed open endedly. 

John looks up and down Roger's body with a critical gaze. "Mmm," was all he says on the matter which is far more nerve-racking to Roger than just picking one of the two options. Roger isn't even sure which one he prefers which was probably why John hadn't decided. All the better for him to suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will this fic ever end? unlikely i have at least 6 more chapters planned not to mention the bonus one.
> 
> and the next chapter comes with very very fun new tags that ive been holding on to and teasing this whole time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the new tags. We now have ben hardy!john harris.

Despite Roger being willing of mind his body still feels weak and heavy as he is helped to the table. Sitting down again has the plug lodging itself firmly and uncomfortably in him as he is oversensitized. Hopefully if he doesn't move or fidget he will recover, at least a little as the plug size makes it impossible to actually ignore. Freddie moved his chair so they were sitting thigh-to-thigh. For being left hot and bothered, Freddie was probably to exact a terrible teasing revenge. 

Brian opened the bag to reveal it's nutritional content. He divided up and handed out the mixed salads and cool cuts that John had gotten. They could not just shared from one common mixed salad, no that would have been far too easy. Roger loathed olives with a passion and John didn't like raw tomatoes, Brian found balsamic too acidic and so it when on. John stood to fetch empty plates onto which they each served to their preferences.

Once they had each created to their tastes, they dug in and all was quiet. Having a cold meal should be helpful with their blood running hot after all that had happened, least of all the incendiary image. Freddie was by far the most worked up, he looked ready to jump out of his skin. Unsurprising as he had been the only one not to have been given relief after having watched his most beautiful of lover writhe in his laps as the other demonstrated his talent at pleasing another. 

For the moment Freddie has his left arm which he was not eating with slung over Roger's shoulders. Chewing was the only sound for a long moment. Roger found it hard to have an appetite despite having now found relief. His stomach was no longer a wringing ball of tension but instead sat heavy in his guts as tips of his limbs felt leadened. Each mouthful was robotic rather than spurred on by desire. The same could not be said of Brian, who was demolishing his plate. Perhaps it was because he was so accustomed as a vegetarian to the favor of a mixed salads. He put everything in them such as walnuts, cheese, croutons, radishes, beets, red cabbage and it seemed all other vegetables that tasted terrible. 

There was a knock at the door and Brian went to open it John Harris was there. He pays Queen little mind, aside from a return wave at Freddie's teasing 'Hello Julie.' Harris was completely unaffected by his boss' antics after all they've been through together. Once Harris had agreed to help Freddie with his show of intimidation for his audition to Ibex, anything else was to be accepted. 

Harris had a deli sandwich in hand from which he eagerly devoured giant chunks. The roadies only had 15 minute breaks when they were working the studio rather than one longer devoted lunch break. This however was only for as long as there was work to do and Harris could tell that Queen would take at least their whole hour. There would be some need to arrange and prepare the instruments for the afternoons sessions but as such things were maintained from day to day it wouldn't take an hour.

The brands on the sandwich wrapper showed that while Queen had power to have food delivered, he had instead walked quite a distance to get not only good food but something different than the normal block radius from the studio.

The table was big enough to seat at least six comfortably and they had jammed at least ten before but Harris instead chose to recline on the now clean couch unaware of what had happened there less than half an hour ago. Freddie leaned forward, sliding his hand naturally to tease at the baby hairs on Roger's nape. "It must be a bother darling to get kept here to twiddle your thumbs, unaware if we are coming or going. Nothing like the reliable work of touring."

Harris shrugged and spoke between chews, "We get paid either way."

Freddie was relaxed in his chair and yet he looked like a big cat, stalking and threatening prey, it was the heat in his eyes and the careful smooth tone of his voice. "True enough, although perhaps it could be made up to you."

Harris looks up at one of his boss' strange words. "What like a compensation?"

Freddie looks up through his lashes at Roger, whose face is blushing and doing his best not to meet Freddie's eye. Freddie can see their drummer chewing on his lips and grinding down in his seat, all signs that Roger understand what is being said and is not as unaffected as his expression is trying to be. There also aren't any signs that Roger is displeased. Not a red from Roger's lips or a safeword that is a gesture like a pinch to his thighs. "I'm sure we could think of something," Deaky offers lightly, not trapping them into anything too damning. 

Harris wears a slight frown, he knows something is afoot but not what. He looks with his bright blue eyes through half-lids; it is unlike to be at his expense, "Sure, why not." He's done with his sandwich and crinkles up the wrapper before tossing it from at least six feet into the open bin. Then he tips his head against the couch's back, sliding down in his seat and fishing out a cig that he lights.

"Comfortable couch isn't it?" Brian throws out. He's knees are probably still feeling the linoleum as Roger's remember the bathroom tiles. 

"Much better than the one in Zurich." The room in the Hallenstadion Queen had used as a rec room had had the worse, most horrible, ugly couch in all of human history. It had felt like concrete padded with one sheet toilet paper and had been a vivid shade of lime green, trimmed with vibrant red.

"I'm not sure that sleeping on the sidewalk wouldn't be more comfortable than that one," Brian agreed.

"Well that would save me in rent money," Harris joked. He shifted on the couch as though trying to sink deeper into the cushions. "Yeah it is comfortable, comfortable enough to... sleep on," Harris said slowly, adding weight to his words. 

Deaky's eyes shined, what a perspective roadie they had. And this subtle teasing game of hinting at it was riling them up. A frank conversation about what could happen, what were their limits and boundaries could still happened but wasn't needed if they could understand each other.

"It's likely that later we are going to stop for tea," Freddie proposed, there was actually probably still enough time during their lunch break for something but if anyone was having that time it was Fred. 

Despite Brian having taken seconds he has cleared his plate, "I think I want some coffee."

"Gonna go fetch it from next door or use the machine?" 

"Unless someone wants something special."

A chorus of 'Nah.' 'Just regular is good.' were his answer. Their rec room has a perfectly serviable coffee machine if you didn't want anything like an espresso or latte. Harris joined Brian at the small counter to help him. 

"I think I'll just sip from Freddie's cup," Roger spoke in his broken voice. Caffeine made him jittery on a good day but as wound tight and overwhelm as he had been all day, it was probably not a good idea to have a lot more than that.

"I can make you tea," Harris offered.

"Um, sure, thank you," Roger finally decided on. 

Freddie lays is head on Roger's shoulder and one of his hands starts to caress his thigh. After a few of those Freddie slips his hand up Roger's shorts to pet him on bare skin. Freddie hands are very lightly calloused and warm to the touch. "What do we think? Is the grass as green as it seemed?" Freddie says in a quiet voice. While John can just barely hear at the table, Brian and Harris engaged in a conversation at the counter cannot.

The grass is often greener on the other side and Roger tends to be a man who knows what he wants. He also had a good idea of his limitations and what he only liked in theory. First there had been to be a rockstar, to have fame, accolade, money, girls, it was really genuinely exactly what he wanted. But in this case it's of a more personal matter. While Roger always enjoyed the dirty talk and the degradation, he made it clear and very clear - a tv thrown through a window clear- that he was to be treated like an equal when not in the 'bedroom' (even if they engaged in sexual situations often outside of it).

Similarly he enjoyed the talk and taunt of public sex but in fact never as yet wanted to actually do it. He liked semi-public sex and when or where there was a chance of getting caught or being overheard. Freddie sometimes seemed like he had a secret-sense that allowed him to know exactly what Roger's boundaries were as to skirt them without trespassing. This wasn't actually the case, the real reason was that Freddie was considerate such as right now.

Roger had expressed an interest in John Harris. He had started it. And then Brian asked to confirm. Then they had started to openly dangle the idea. At any point of which Roger could have signaled as discreetly or as overly as he needed to that he wasn't okay with this, but he hadn't. He could still say no of course, he wasn't actually trapped now that they had suggested the idea to Harris. 

Not too dissimilar to John gifting him the plug. Roger could refuse, say no, he could even set limits such as no wearing it outside but he liked and trusted the idea that his lovers were exploring his boundaries to bring him to greater and greater pleasures. Roger liked the feeling that it was out of his control. That he was being told what to do and that he just had to take it. But if he did, if he behaved himself and was a good boy, the reward was definitely worth it. "So far so good," Roger said with a double-tap of his fingers to Freddie's back under the table that meant proceed. 

The boys poured everyone a cuppa and settled themselves down. This time Harris pulled up a chair to sit in front of Roger, whom he inspected with great interest. Roger's hair hadn't been brushed that morning and then he had it pulled first by Brian and then by Deaky. His lips still felt bruised and swollen from when he'd allowed Deaky to face fuck him. He had been hot and sweaty on and off all day. And that last orgasm had left him so shaken that Roger wouldn't be surprise to learn that his face is still pale but his cheeks are flushed. 

"So," Harris says once he's had his fill of staring. "How's your birthday been? Got any big plans?" As the necessary sugars and milk had been added, Harris slowly sipped the still hot beverage.

"You know how it is," Roger tried in his wrecked voice. Freddie hand squeezed Roger's thigh at the sound. John was really just too big to be taken without any damage. The very thought riled Freddie up. It's not that he would have rather taken Roger's place so much as he would have liked for them both to enjoy it. And liking big cock in your mouth came with the territory of loving big cock in your ass, which is really what got Freddie going. Maybe for his birthday, which was only a month and a week later, Freddie could wear the plug. Of course what Freddie loved was the size not humiliation so maybe he wouldn't be as interested to leave the house with it. 

Harris raised an eyebrow, "Do I, now?"

Roger shrugged and barely noticed in his peripheral as he was facing Harris on his right, Freddie pull something from his jacket pocket. It could have been a cigarette until he saw Freddie give it to Harris. It's was simple white plastic casing, maybe two inches across and has a toggle switch simply labeled on and off. 

Roger could feel himself break out into a cold sweat. To go again so soon would be extremely intense. Harris looked at it and then looked at Roger, rubbing a thumb besides the toggle. "You want to tell me what this is, Roger?"

Roger gulped, pulling at his collar, "Deaky was good enough to give me a present."

"Yes, and he must have chosen correctly because the birthday boy seems to have been enjoy himself with it *all* day," Freddie rolled the word all in such a way that it dripped with insinuation and Roger was powerless to stop his whole body from clenching, including around the plug. "I'm afraid he's not available for your use right now, we've just been enjoy him so much, but if you want to get him hot and ready for something later," Freddie added batting his lashes.

The lust running through Roger feels like magma at - well everything. The way Freddie talked about him, like he wasn't there, like was just a toy for their amusement; the way Harris stared at him, the potential of all that was to come now that they had opened this pandora's box. 

"Oh yeah? That sounds exhausting but fun. Have you been having fun Roger?" Roger nods and can feel his blush climb up his ears. Harris runs his thumb along the switch, "Do you need a break or are you ready?" 

It's good of him to ask the question as he's not as intuned as his boys to his silent queues. "I know I can be difficult to work for. I know I don't always treat you right, I'm sorry."

"Difficult? Mmm, certainly," Harris said in an amused voice before growing firmer, "Because right now I'm asking for a yes or a no, are you going to difficult about that?"

Roger feels shame like water down his back, it's terribly delightful. "No sir." While punishments are always a nice change of pace, Roger has really been trying his best all day for his birthday, even when it's been difficult and against his nature. "I am ready to go again, sir."

"Oh? I'm sir now? What good behavior, I'll find some way to reward it," Harris said as he stared down his employer with heat in his gaze. 

He flipped the switched and Roger's whole body spasmed helplessly as a desperate moan was torn out of him. "Christ," Harris was so surprised with how strong the reaction, he nearly dropped the switch. The room was filled with the loud noises that were streaming from Roger's mouth. 

Brian slid up behind Harris and wrap his hand around the roadie's and the switch. 

"Isn't our boy so beautiful? He react so strongly," Freddie cooed.

"It's been a long day and he's been so good, taking it all; he's just a little hypersensitive now," Brian said.

Harris flipped the switched and Roger quieted down as he white knuckled the table. He's breathes were loud in the room but slowly returning to near normal. Harris carefully attached the switch to his belt loop before scooching closer to Roger. "My, my, that was quite the performance, whatever have you been gifted?" Harris reached over and grabbed the back of Roger's shorts and pants. 

He pulled at the fabric and pull it slowly. In effect giving Roger a wedgie and forcing his pants into his crack and pressing tightly against his hole and then causing friction as he pulled back and forth. Roger shoot out and grabbed Harris by the biceps but did nothing to stop him. He was merely clinging on for dear sanity. 

Roger found it hard to get his eyes to focus. Harris was such a different sight from his boys with his light coloring and yet he wore the same predatorial looks as them. Like Roger was a meek little lamb they'll like to snack on. 

Once Harris had properly established the wedgie, he let Roger go and picked up his cup of coffee that he sipped at like nothing had happened. It was bad enough when Deaky, his long time lover did it but have his 'newcomer' behave the same way - it got Roger all hot and bothered. Like he didn't have an effect on them the same way they affected him. It was as though he was nothing, like furniture in a room, to be used and then ignored. "I was good enough to make you a cup of tea, I hope you won't let it go to waste." Roger leaned forward to get it which naturally caused the tense fabric to shift. "Now, now, you still have some of your lunch break and until then, you are not to fix your shorts. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," Roger said meekly as he sipped the tea, made to his exacting standards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If we have opinions about how involved we want Harris to get, pls leave in the comments as I am currently undecided. 
> 
> Has been a month since the last update but I have been very, very busy, never worry though that this story is abandoned. Between midterms, halloqueen fics (I'm writing two of them), the ship weeks which I am also partaking in, and another DLS challenge, I'm just very busy.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been a bit of a gamble, as all good things were, but it seems they were right to trust him. Harris, like all their roadies, had long been aware of their unconventional relationship. Cluing him into the details was easy and relatively non-worrisome. No what had actually been the consider was asking him to wait.

Harris was rather extraordinarily beautiful in his own way, handsome rather than Roger's pretty in face to say nothing of his toned muscular build compare to Roger's soft leisurely body. A man such as that was probably accustomed to having to restrain himself. Girls threw themselves at him as much as Roger. 

And yet they could never know unless they tried and so they had given Harris a chance to prove himself. He had been quick to understand the teasing game they were playing and had been effortlessly able to meet them there. There was nothing like dirty talk to rile Roger up. Roger was normally quite response but today the plug had stripped away his defensive, leaving him as little more than a livewire. Harris had easily been able to see the effect of their words, of their manner of speaking about him, how it was affected him and Harris has harnessed that great effect. 

Now there was to be a bit of a waiting game. It was far easier for Harris who had probably not spent the morning teased, stimulated or brought to orgasms without relief. He hadn't even been touched, all there was the delicious sight of an aroused, wretched Roger and the tantalizing promise of all that there was still to come. 

While they were planning on letting Harris have him at their mid-afternoon break, Freddie was rather hoping for something before then and yet he feared that that would be too much to ask of Roger. Sitting as close as they were he could still see Roger's breath still shaking after the vibrator. What Freddie thought of instead was to tease Roger as he himself had been teased by using him as nothing more than a grinding post for his own pleasure. It would surely make it impossible for Roger to relax and yet it would hopeful not wind him up so much, he would be unable to continue work. 

"How do we feel-" Freddie teased out the words as he methodically stirred and placed his teaspoon aside, "About watching?"

Harris flicks his eyes up from where he was faking normalcy with Deaky. While Roger's blue eyes tend to appear more grey as the pupil widens, Harris look more green. "Can't be sure, suppose it depend on what I'm going to be watching." He doesn't look at Roger but Roger can feel his skin tighten and his body clench useless about the plug. "But I'd be down with that, and if it's too much, I find myself unable to hold myself back, I'll go out back smoke a cigarette, cool down."

Roger doesn't know what Freddie has in mind only that is sure to be tortuous and teasing and he doesn't get to leave for a smoke break, he'll have to sit here and take it. The very thought of how powerless he's making himself makes him gulp, his extremities tingling. 

"Good," Freddie says with a normal smile but Roger can see the wickness lurking in the corner of his eyes. Freddie turns to the other John, "Now Deaky, I'm sorry you were left out, when you were good enough to go and fetch us our food. I was hoping to make it up to you know," He waves Deaky over. 

Deaky shrugs as he stands up from the table, "Well if you are going to make it up to me, I suppose I must accept this apology."

"It will be very apologetic," Freddie teases as he scooches to make space. Roger finds moving difficult, sliding in place, which only twists the wedgie and jostles the plug. They do manage to squeeze four on one side of the table, Brian carefully watching them from the other side.

Freddie tenderly cradles Deaky's face as he goes in for a messy, loud kiss. Very, very loud in fact. Freddie doesn't normally make that much noise so it must be for the benefit of this audience. Freddie and Deaky start to paw at each other rather aggressively, sliding hands under clothing to groping and squeeze. 

Brian sighs as though put upon, pretending to be bothered by his lovers antitics as he goes to lock the door and ensure their privacy. The sound of the lock clicking into place makes Roger hold body go tense, he'd forgot about it again. Their seating arrangement doesn't last long as soon Roger feels the constant push of Freddie against his side to which Freddie reasons by climbing into Roger's lap, sitting his firm arse against that cruel cup which would deny Roger any pleasure from this situation. 

Roger gets a faceful of Freddie's face that smells simply of soap which is overpowered by his perfumed and aftershave. It's a noseful of odors that Roger does nothing to get away, not that he could in that chair. He does think that soon probably the smell will be overpowered by sweat and sex and the anticipation is hot in his veins.

Deaky follows Freddie, standing between Roger's legs, leaning against the table. His hands are on Freddie's hips, apply pressure that crushes and shakes Roger and the plug.

"Roger, be a dear and play with Freddie's nipples."

Roger's view is absurd by Freddie's body and his mind so lust-addled he can't even tell if it is Brian or John that order him. Still he does as is asked of him, returning the favor from this morning in the carpark when Freddie had been nice enough to do this to him. He slips his hands under Freddie's shirt and up his chest. Relatively often Freddie shaves, especially for a photoshoot, but right now Freddie has let his chest hair grow thick and wild. The hairs are coarse under Roger's fingers and he is sure to pull at them as he passes.

Freddie continues with his noisily show, acting as reactive as Roger. His nipples are already hard before Roger gets to them probably from being left high and dry. His torso shutters into his touch and Roger is careful to be rough like Freddie like it without being too much, he wouldn't want to be accused of misbehaving. Aside from Freddie's reaction to his touches, Roger can feel John pushing down on Freddie possibly grinding against him and jostling Freddie's body against him. Is this how Freddie felt when Brian's mouth was on him. Like a piece of furniture, so close and yet so ignored. Roger can do little but take it pinned as he is, trapped by the chair and by Harris body all along his side. 

Harris is pressed tightly to his side but Roger can't turn his neck to look at him, trapped by Freddie's body. He kind of wants to reach out, to return something to Harris that is going without stimulation and yet if he can't have Roger until later it might be that he'd rather not get 'teased'. If he wants something from Roger, he could ask - hell, he could order. 

Instead Roger is looking across the table at Brian. His head so fogged with sensations and without his glasses he can't makeout his expression but Roger imagines that Brian, so recently satisfied, is sitting back and enjoying on a purely mental level the sight the four of them must be making. 

As good as Freddie is at putting on a show, Roger knows the instant that Deaky must have his hand on Freddie's dick. He shutters still and unmoving, finally get that sought after friction. His loud moans before tight breathless whimpers as he gasps and pleads silently. The room is instead filled with the sound of a moist hold sliding over skin. 

The mental effect on Roger is strong, this is all so much. Being used in this way, knowing its the same way he used Freddie earlier which somehow makes it extra evil and cruel, Harris' presence, Freddie's clear pleasure, Deaky's devotion to another so near and yet so far, Brian's passive watching. Roger feels his accelerated breathes crashing in his chest. 

Deaky has large, calloused hands. He also tends to always wear a lot of rings on them, that he doesn't take them off unless he has to. Roger bites his lip. There's nothing quite like the bite of cold metal poking at his rim or sliding along his shaft. He can all too easily imagine the unique sensation from the countless times he has been in Freddie's position. Somehow imaging without having adds an extra layer to this experience that rubs on Roger's sensitive nerves. 

Roger can tell Freddie is getting closer as his voice becomes harsher and his body is racked with tiny spasms. Roger can almost feel the heat coming off of his skin as his chest heaves under Roger's hands nibbling plucking away. If he were to-

That when the vibrator inside Roger comes alive and he can't help the scream that is ripped out of him, partly from shock, partly from the sensations themselves. The weight of Freddie in his lap is pushing him down in to the chair and the wedgie is grinding up against his hole. The pleasure borders on pain as the chafing sensation threatens to overwhelm him. He can feel the vibrations deep inside him rocking him to his core. The noise he makes are completely involuntary as he gets loud enough to rival Freddie's fake demonstration. Roger literally, physically can't even get hard so soon and yet that doesn't stop spots from whiting out his vision.


	13. Chapter 13

When he comes to, it is to the sound of soft talking and his loud harsh breathes mingling with Freddie's. Freddie is still in his lap but he has scooched forward as to only have his weight on Roger's mid thighs. The vibrator is blessedly off not that Roger thinks he could have recovered otherwise and his boys are softly talking while Deaky strokes gently over Roger's chest. He can feel his heart racing as though it might explode out of his rib cage. 

He feels like he's been run over by an 18-wheeler. He tries to pull himself together. They love him because he's fierce and passionate, not because he's a runout dishtowel. He needs to at least pretend he has two brain cells left firing. "Was that good for you too?" He tries to tease Freddie, his voice somehow sounds even more wrecked as he stirs his hands where they've limply fallen around their singer's waist.

"Aw, back with us baby?" Freddie half turns around to give him a loud smooch on the cheek. "I think you freaked out Julie. He saw your eyes rolling back in your head like that and was concern he'd broke you."

Roger turns to look at Harris which is mostly him flopping his head uselessly to the left on his neck. Harris looks caring and thoughtfully at Roger, a hand gently petting him on the side of his thighs. While Roger's pride would normally protest being pet, he's been a good boy and he definitely deserves their love and consideration after all they've put him through. It's especially nice from Deaky who tends to be shy about proclaiming his love with words rather declaring it with actions and gestures. 

"I'm green -good," Roger 'corrects' himself. "Very good, that was-" He tries to scrape together a sentence. "A hell of a birthday gift." He tries to smile at Deaky but his face feels stiff and leaden, it's too much energy to even lift up the corners of his mouth more than that. The fog is lifting and he gets the feeling he is forgetting something but it comes to him in an instant as it often does. The first of his boys; he turns to look at Brian. 

Brian is sipping away at his cuppa looking content and happy, which is really typically post not-his orgasmic behavior. As much as Brian likes his own pleasure, he somehow seems to delight more in theirs. "It good for you too Bri?"

Brian easily smiles at Roger's concern. "Why wouldn't it be? There's nothing better than watching my boys enjoy themselves."

"Except maybe joining in," Deaky's voice sounds low, Deaky doesn't flirt so much as forcefully state intentions which Roger finds much hotter. It does bring up the question of if Deaky got to come. He hopes that if they still need to take care of that they won't use Roger as a grinding post, again. 

Deaky and Brian stare at each other for a long hot moment before Freddie bursts their bubble, "Take a few moments, finish your tea because we do have to get back into the studio." While Roger fears having to try and function in front of other people, his body is also dying for the shortest respite. It won't really be a break, not really, not with the plug still stretching him so wide, a constant pressure all along his insides but perhaps if no one touches the vibrator for 5 whole minutes Roger can discover how to exist again.

With that game plan in mind they finish their cuppas in relative peace. What is normalcy and peace amongst Queen is them sniping at each other about what they are going to be doing in the studio. As aside from vocals this morning song is more or less done, it will need to be mixed and they are surely going to have opinions about all of that, it is done from a musical standpoint. That means that next is Brian's song. Brian like everyone member of this band, is opinionated and hard headed. Every suggestions the other three of them make must be fought for and defended.

Truly there is nothing more normal to Roger as he sips at his lukewarm tea. They have these fights everyday, no matter where they are or what they are doing. It's a good appropriate precursor to get in the mindset of work. And Roger, even half out of it, can still contribute. Brian wanting to put too long of a guitar solo? Say it isn't so.

Despite Roger finding an equilibrium, he's hardly back to normal or firing on all cylinders. When their beverages have been drunk and their hour has run out, it is on shaky, wobbly legs that Roger stands. With the change from sitting to standing the plug judders uncomfortably. He grits his teeth and bares it, breathing through the shockwave of sensation. Freddie casually swings an arm over his shoulders, which actually jostles him a little, that bitch, but then does actually provide support for Roger to lean on. Not that anything really makes it better.

With every step he can feel his whole weight come crashing down on his foot and shifting his hips, applying pressure everywhere and anywhere. Somehow he has become so over sensitive that it is as though the flat ground has become the treacherous stairs from this morning. Much like with Freddie's grinding, it isn't so much pleasure as it is overwhelming sensation. At the very least, his walking and the rather lose nature of these shorts compare to his usual trousers allows for his pants to unwind themselves from their tight hold. It is better but at first, without that additional pressure against his hole, Roger can't help the involuntary clenching at the feeling that plug is going to slip out. He just tries to breathe through it although the trip from the rec room has never felt longer. 

Through sheer force of will alone, he makes it to the studio and then is only left with the daunting task of lowering himself down onto the drummer's seat. Only now Harris is here, watching, knowing. And he has that glint in his eyes of anticipation, because soon he will be the one to continue the wrecking of Roger's body.

Roger can't focus on that, he needs to get through this first. That is easier said than done. He's checked out mentally and at least they know they can't expect anything more from him. That being said the slight movement of his foot need to hit the bass drum pedal is enough for him to feel his body rocking down on the plug. Although at this point Roger isn't sure that if he was just left in a room alone with the plug still inside of him, if that wouldn't be enough to send fire down his nerves. 

He's losing track of time but he can still manage to do his time, waiting and watching for Deaky's queues. His whole world is just focused to his drums and the plug. He can hear his harsh breathes and feel the sweat running down his body but still he keeps on going.

He waits for the next of Deaky's queue but instead something else is happening. He looks around, trying to figure it out when Freddie approaches him. Surely he wasn't doing that bad of a job playing? "Rog dear," Freddie is speaking in a quiet conversational voice that they know from experience won't travel, "Brian continued with that lie that you are sick. It's not hard for them to believe after all that time you spent being sick in the bathroom." Roger clenches down and if he wasn't on the verge of losing it his already red cheeks would blush. He can still feel the hoarseness in his throat. 

Freddie can tell apparently by whatever expression is crossing his face, so he decides to add another layer, "Poor, poor Roggie, so sick he threw up that's why he now has those nasty bruises on his knees. It's definitely not because he was taking it on his knees. Throwing up also conveniently explains how wrecked your voice is." Roger can't help but to audibly gulp. Deepthroating Deaky always does some damage, and more when he face fucks, but Roger being made to scream and moan all day has really exasperated the problem. 

"And of course there is the way you look," Roger can feel the heat rolling off his body in waves, the constant burn of arousal coursing through his veins. "Sure you didn't brush your hair this morning after sleeping on it, it looking like that has nothing to do with what you might have been doing last night or this morning. No one tugged on those pretty blonde tresses while you gagged for it," Sounds like Freddie is still angry that someone had to be left behind while Roger went 'to be sick' in the WC. 

But Freddie is not done teasing Roger with his words, "Your pale but your cheeks are bright red and your eyes are glassy, you can't focus on anything, you are completely out it. Fucked out of your mind," Roger can't help either the whimper that Freddie's growled words elicit. "You have no idea what you look like. You looked so well fucked, you couldn't look more fucked if we shagged you all morning till noon."

Roger can all too clearly start to imagine what he might look like. Deaky and Roger had recently discovered this; although they had yet to tell the boys about this new fact Roger had learned about himself. Deaky had fucked him in their flat's bathroom over the sink counter. And Roger, who enjoys shame and being looked at so much, likes to be taken in front of a mirror made to stare into his own reflection as he gets progressively more and more wrecked. 

Roger tries to clear his throat at Freddie's vivid image and what it is provoking in him. "Does that mean I get to go home?" Roger almost feels like when he was in college and faking his illness for the school nurse, which just leads him down the terrible path of whether Brian with his doe eyes or Deacon with his slender hips would look better in a nurse's uniform. 

"No," Freddie says clearly amused and Roger feels his grip on sanity losing. It feels like he's already been here for countless hours. "We thought just a break to see if it subsides, if you feel any better. After all, despite your 'clear' malady you were doing such a good job." Roger is sure, he is so stripped raw that his expression, normally of aloof cool guy that gives his Dom a tough time, must be projecting pure puppy-dog for Freddie easily gives him the satisfaction he craves. "And what a good job you were doing. We were all very impressed, you were being such a good boy, our good boy. You did so well. And now you are going to be rewarded with that treat you wanted."

Roger is only confused for a moment until his eyes dart around the room. The control booth is empty and Brian's and Deaky's instruments rest on their stands. Harris is leaning a little to the side with his arms crossed casually across his chest. His expression is far from casual though. He's staring at Roger like he's going to devour him. And Roger feels his whole body respond.


	14. Chapter 14

Roger doesn't even try to get up from his drum kit, the effort would be too difficult and Harris bearing down on him like a ton of bricks. Roger can do nothing but to sit there as he is kissed sensless. So strong is the motion that he rocks, nearly falling from the stool; grabbing at the last moment his kit to stabilize himself.

If Roger's impatience had made him space out, it made Harris boarding on feral. He'd never had Roger and he'd didn't know if or when he'd ever have him again.

Harris pulls back from snogging Roger so aggressively to look at him with his piercing blue eyes, he looks so much like a predator, he's even licking his lips. He looks Roger all over as though there are new signs of his state but under the cup all is hidden.

The roadie stands up, straightening himself. Roger tries to follow, apply pressure to his kit to try and wrench himself upright but Harris places a single hand on his chest and slams him back down into the stool, "No you're fine where you are." He carelessly flicks away a single blond lock from his face, his attention more on his belt as he does it and opens his fly.

Even before he pulls it out Roger can see how hard he is, the clear outline of his fat cock through his tight trousers and it does not disappoint. Uncut, fat and so hard its nearly purple. Roger is sitting at too great a height should that be what he plans, they'd be better off with him on his knees. But he's been asked to stay put and he can be a good boy, at least on his birthday.

Harris solves this problem easily, kicking the stool's pedal and lowering the seat all at once, rattling Roger and the plug stretching his wide open. He can't help the groan that is ripped out of him at this point, his pride is just happy it's not a scream.

Now that he's at the right height, Harris approaches cock in hand with his trousers barely lowered. Roger licks his lips and opens up, he tries to clear his throat, Deaky's size still felt inside. Harris is so turned on, possibly because it's Roger, possibly because of the naughty thing they are doing at work with the toy, possibly both; he's already fully hard and wet at the tip despite them only kissing.

Roger does his best to take him in, wrapping a hand around the base and breathing through his mouth. He tries his best to maintain sucking, give it attention with his tongue and keep his teeth covered. This is far from the most skillful blowjob he's ever given but honestly Roger is trying his best to just keep it together at this point.

The good news is that Harris doesn't seem to mind, enjoying this new sensation or at least so it seems, Harris is rather remarkably quiet. Roger knows because when he opens his eyes and looks up it's to Harris blown eyes and a deeply intense look on his chiseled face. He stares him down as though he is trying to burn the image into his retinas. He threads his fingers through Roger's hair which he pulls not to harshly but unrelentingly.

Until he pulls Roger off completely. Roger does his best to not flail around, holding on to the other blonde's hips. Only for Harris to pull him back forward. Roger would like to tell him that pulling your partner completely off is not a good way to get what you want if it might be facefucking; but Harris instead directs him to his much neglected balls.

They're tight and drawn up to his body. Roger's mouth descends upon them, smearing saliva from Harris' cock onto his cheek. The first real loud moan Roger gets from him is when he suckles them. He lashes attention onto them for a minute more for again Harris pulls him off by his hair. Roger is ready and thinking to go back to the cock bobbing in his face but no.

Roger is lifted and manhandled into being on all fours, with the stool in the middle of his torso to help keep him up. Roger is honestly so grateful for it, so he doesn't have to try as to end up with carpet burns on his face.

Harris lowers his trousers and pants exposing the plum cheeks ass and the secret buried between them. He removes the groin protector and then doesn't hesitate, doesn't tease, just goes right for it, gripping his fingers around the plug's base.

If it was Freddie he'd jostle and shake it around first, to be sure to stir Roger up. But Harris just grabs it firmly and pulls in a slow unrelenting drag. Roger can feel his rim desperately cling and then flutter around the thickest, widest part.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Is all Roger can say, he doesn't even try to vocalize it, it's just an unending stream. He feels like he's gone slightly mad. Just the sensation of taking out the plug has him seeing stars, shaking and panting. The vibrator, for all the it packs a nasty punch, is tiny in comparison and he barely feels it on its way out. He doesn't know if he's even relieved to have it out. He can feel his body desperately clenching around nothing.

Roger distantly hears the sound of lube but doesn't feel anything so Harris must be coating his cock. And sure enough, the blunt fat head of Harris' cock is soon pushing in nice and wet.

It's so... odd but thunder-strikingly intensely hot to be able to be entered without being fingered opened first. As though he is always ready and prepared for anyone who should want, they need only to bend him over and lower his trousers.

Harris doesn't fuck around -pun intended- as he gets right to the main event; fucking Roger's brains out with powerful thrusts. Roger can't complain, in fact he can't really do anything but try his best to hold on. He doesn't even think he's hard again but that doesn't diminish the pleasure.

For as it turns out all those delicious muscles from hauling their equipment is good for more than just ogling. Roger completely pinned by the tight grip on his waist which better allows Harris' thrusting. And oh boy, Roger doesn't know if he's ever been fucked this hard in his life.

Harris is certainly giving it his all but Roger's mind is so fucked, unable to come down from the constant sensations of the day, that he's barely able to tell up from down let alone with what finesse he is getting fucked.

While the thin fabric of trousers, as opposed to shorts, would hardly have made a difference when he was on the hard bathroom tiles, he's feeling it against the carpet. The pain, rather than distracting from his pleasure, is serving rather well to ground him in the here and now, although he's going to end up with some interesting marks at the end of the day.

Roger eyes actually start to tear up as they approach his climax, it's so much, it's too much, he feels so wrung dry. The pleasure is now beyond the physical, it's the pleasure he's giving Harris, and the pleasure of pleasing this idea of another fucking him, fucking him at his work, with undoubtedly his colleagues not far away. Not just any other but the one he selected, and then felt comfortable enough to tell his lovers about, and then was delivered to, teased so provocatively in front of.

When Harris does come, clear by the tightening grip on Roger's hips, the spasming of his thrusts, and in shaking of limbs Roger joins him. He doesn't even know if his wrung out balls managed to squeeze any more and yet his mind experiences a peak all the same.

When he comes to, he feels small and weak but well-rested. It's an odd sensation, he doesn't even have words for it. It's clear his skin has been wiped and clean, he feels refreshed physically even if mentally he's still a little cloudy. His shorts have been pulled up but the fly hasn't been closed. He's been lowered from the stool and is resting on the ground with Harris' jacket pillowed under his head. Harris is petting his hair. The man in question is sitting next to him smoking a cigarette in his other hand.

He stubs it out when he sees Roger blinking his eyes open. "I thought you could do with a little power nap, it's been about twenty minutes, was gonna ask the boys at thirty if they wanted you woken up or brought to the van."

"Yeah, thanks, I feel much better."

"Yeah, I imagine, I didn't know how you'd be so I didn't put it back in."

And indeed Roger looks over to see the giant plug next to the vibrator and bottle of lube. Ah, that would explain why he's so recovered. He stirs into a half up right position. He might be a little more mentally present and clear minded but his body feels absolutely wrecked. His muscles hurt, his ass aches, his throat is sore and his knees are raw. God, he could go for an extra few hours on that nap.

He- What he'd like is just go straight home. And hopeful his lovers will be kind and considerate enough to not make him go through the car trip nor the stairs with the plug in. But if they want something else from him -he does want to be a good boy and he believes in their ability to safely bring him to his limits, as they already have today.

"I need to speak to my boys."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a reupload because i messed up last time and just noticed now when uploading the next one

They come in with different expressions. Freddie is wickedly curious, Brian is faintly concerned and Deaky's expression looks like a mixture of bored and eager, it's always hard to tell with their bassist.

As they all are familiar with aftercare and with Roger's preferences that they all reach out to give him physical comfort, mostly pets and strokes. Roger melts uselessly in place. "Don't you have something to say to them?"

"Thank you," Is what he actually says rather than please take me home and let me rest because he is thankful. This is the most memorable birthday he's ever had and the day's not even over. While the aches will linger for at least the rest of the week, most wonderful are the memories and experiences, mostly from being in that head space for so long.

They all love him so much, smiling down at him as their hands caress him not in a way that arouses but rather soothes. "We're so happy you are having a good birthday."

"You too- Happy you too are having a good time," He clarifies that he's not so addled as to think they share a birthday somehow. Harris clears his throat awkwardly. And Roger stills under their hands, is there a polite way to tell him to fuck off now that he's been used almost like a living dildo.

Freddie leans in and nuzzles at the crook under Roger's jaw, "If you really want him sent away I will, but if you'd like to do this again it's best if he stays and if he learns."

It's tempting. Roger can't imagine not wanting Harris again, the man is so gorgeous and by the nature of his job subservient to Roger, a dynamic Roger loved to have turned against him. And yet... "If you are to put it back in, I can't-" He feels tears threatening again. This day has stripped him bare and rubbed him raw, he might have recovered a little physically with the help of that nap, but emotionally that head space of pleasuring coming only from another's pleasure seems so close.

"And if not?" Freddie questions as he lifts his baby boy into his lap where he's allowed to slump over Freddie's shoulder and look into Brian's loving hazel eyes and slightly higher, Deaky's. While Brian looks concerned, Deaky looks rather lovingly proud.

"S'fine," Roger mumbles grabbing at Freddie's shirt. He's starting to feel rather like a grumpy toddler ready for nap time. He watches through half lidded eyes Harris' blissed expression.

His hair is slightly disheveled and he's worked up a proper sweat; factors which server only to make him all the more beautiful. It's more than the fair hair and blue eyes that they have in common, Harris goes become him with his muscular build and sharp features. No one is mistaking him for a girl, that's for sure.

His three boys lean over him and discuss in hushed tones his fate. He's not listening but there's no need because whatever they pick, he will be powerless to control and they will be there for him as he must endure. He feels his eyes close as to better focus on the hands on his body.

The touch doesn't feel like too much, if anything it doesn't feel like enough. After something so intense, a weighted blanket would not even feel like too much. But of course, unlike a blanket, their hands are gentle and stroking. He feels like a loved cat basking in the sun; he'd purr if he could.

Then there's Brian gently shaking his shoulder and calling him not just his name but 'love.' The endearment never sounds sweeter than out of the mouths of his lovers for they mean it, but for Brian who loves so much, too much, to the point of ruin and despair, it might mean the most of all.

He blinks his eyes open and can feel John smoothing down his shirt as he closes his fly. The relief is like the tide coming in, smothering his worries. He has no doubt the day isn't over, but now he might be able to recover. "I don't imagine you'll be needing the cup?" John asks almost rhetorically, looking at the groin protector next to plug. They truly belong together, what would be the point of one without the other.

"Not unless you're planning on-" Roger shrugs at the hundred and one things his boyfriends could do to wind him up. Although honestly Roger's dick is so spent he doesn't even know what could make him hard at this point. That being said there is nothing and no one more sexy than his lovers, three fold.

Freddie clears away their toys into his bag, vanishing them from view as John tries his best to finger-comb his hair so it doesn't look like he's been sleeping on the studio floor. With Brian's help, he scooches up, first to a sitting position and then to a standing one. His hole clenches desperately and oddly at being so empty. He can barely find his equilibrium, shifting from foot to foot, as though he needs to relearn his natural gait.

"I-" Roger hesitates to continue as all eyes turn to him. "I think," And he takes a bracing breath, believing not just in himself but in his lovers' ability to push him further and further still both in body and mind, "I'd like us to keep working, to do a few more takes at least."

Brian beams at him, pleased as a peach. Freddie and John look less than eager and it's not hard to wonder why. Roger isn't just giving himself time to recover, he's denying them himself. And while sure Roger has been a good boy today, on his best behavior, he loves to tease and to do so in such an incidental manner... Why he couldn't possibly he held responsible for that.

And so the original Smile duo happily go back to work while the two newcomers must sulk and wait. They do manage to technically be productive, which would be a miracle if it was not a testament to how hardworking and talented they are.

Roger can finally dons his glasses and look about. The techie and sound producers aren't anything interesting, working away hard behind the glass. Freddie, despite his mood, is giving it his all like always. John is harder to read mostly because his back is naturally, by the shape of the room, facing Roger. Still the sonic volcano remains locked tightly so it's nothing dire.

No, what there really is to see is Harris. He leans against the wall staring at Roger. Now there is more than heat in his gaze, there is satisfaction. And if Harris was stunning before, the mussed sex look coupled with the afterglow, is stunning. Not to mention that it's more than a promise this time, this time Roger knows what his cock tastes like, the thick feel of it inside of him.

It is not that he tries to think on these thoughts or to recall the recent memories so much as he can't think of anything else; every time he shifts on his stool he savors the ache from both the plug and the fucking. He wasn't wrong when he turned down the groin protector though, as his limp penis does not stir no matter how provocative the image might burn within him.

And Queen really start to get into, into making music. This doesn't just mean the literal clean recordings of their instruments, this also means fighting about every little thing. It's a Brian song and Brian is as opinionated as any of them and so the rest of them must fight for any little adjustment.

Despite Roger's occasional submissive tendencies when they play, he is by no means meek. So he and Deaky team up quite effectively to lobby for their points, willing to endure a ferocious battle for a single notes so that their music, the final product, can be the best that it can be. This, as always, leaves Freddie as the negotiator, the cool tempers and deescalate their passions.

Freddie is despite his exacting standards, clear artist vision, and reputation in the press and public for being a diva, the most level headed when it comes to this and thus is always in the position of negotiator regardless of what side that puts him on.

Thus Roger really feels like himself again. Not just the drumming, that he had been doing since adolescence and could clearly do in autopilot as demonstrated earlier, but the actual making of the music that requires so much of his dedicate, of his heart and soul.

And so for a few more hours they hammer and bang out the track, getting it closer and closer to perfection with all the tiny changes that have such great and meaningful effects.

They still have only barely been in the studio half a day, to say nothing of their full lunch break or Freddie's solo vocals or Roger's mandatory pause, and yet they grow restless. They aren't over worked, for as much as they love being musicians they can grow restless in the windowless rooms forced to be repetitive and uncreative, but that it's this time. No this time they are restless because there is one thing on all four of their minds.

It crawls under their skins like ants and sends shivers down their spines. They can tell they are all thinking about it by the looks they share out of the corner of their eyes. The end of the work day seems an eternity because they want it now.

Roger- his birthday, his present, himself.


	16. Chapter 16

They manage to get to a point where they are happy with what they've accomplished, they should have everything needed now, it only needs to be mixed and their producer will tell them if anything is missing whenever he gets to it.

When they are ready to leave the studio it is technically their normally leaving time but they've affectedly wasted half the time away, in the bathroom, using their whole lunch break, that mid-afternoon break and yet Roger is honestly proud that they managed to get anything done. 

As they are packing away for the day, its clear that the boys are arguing over who should get Roger next. They don't use any of those alarming words so only Harris is able to pick up on that under currents of their discussion. While normally Freddie would be willing to mediate or Brian willing be the nice one or Deaky preferring to be shy over outspoken, there is no restraint when it's about one of their lovers. 

The very idea is touching to Roger, filling his heart with love and his body with lust, but also the very concept of it. Here they are arguing in front of his workers, in front of a very knowing Harris, exactly how much and how badly they want to fuck him. The idea would probably make him get a chubby on a good day but after everything he's gone through it only makes him light-headed. He just does not to focus on his bruised knees. 

"You know what I think?" Deaky says as they fill out, his voice is evil and wicked and Roger feels fear crawl down his back. 'Best' case scenario he's about to say something cutting and insulting to Brian but today really is Roger's lucky day. "We took the lift up, if Roger's not wearing the plug we could take the stairs but we might as well take it down," Roger has no clue where this is going but nowhere harmless although he's not sure what it could possibly be.

John continues as though these really are harmless idle mussing. "It's law that all lifts must have a stop button. I'm not saying it breaks down, just a temporary delay. I've heard if you shout in a lift, people waiting for it can hear it," and he pauses like the evil terrible man he is and Roger can all to clearly see it unfolding in his mind's eye. "How quiet do you think you can be Roger?"

Freddie tuck a strand of Roger's hair over his ear, "Mm, I think he can do it. He's been such a good boy today and when he's tired he does tend to be quieter."

And then Brian, the traitor who was suppose to be on Roger's side, chimes in, "I don't know Fred, I think with how over sensitive he is," he smacks his lips as they thing about why and how exactly Roger ended up in such a state. How he let them stretch him with a wide plug and how they left it in him all day long, hidden under his clothes, and let him continue on as though nothing was amiss. How they'd all taken turns fucking him and had even shared him with their roadie after Roger had practically begged for more. "If anything I think he'll be louder."

"Tell me darling," Freddie says as though he is about to ask a friendly question, "You haven't told us what Harris was like." They've finally made to the lift and Deaky presses the button rather impatiently. 

Roger darts his eyes around the hallway. He doesn't want to be overheard by the wrong person. It's not that he doesn't want to tell his lovers, he'd love to tell them and imagines in fact the retelling is going to be very erotic. He even suspects that the image will be so striking to his boys and Harris so hot, that they'll let him do it again, if not insist on watching. But he had planned on talking about in the privacy of their car or their flat. Not at some EMI studio where anyone and everyone could be about. 

His boys obviously notice his reluctant to talk about it and they can read him easily enough to know its about the public nature of their questions which is why Brian offers, "How about you entertain us on the ride down, give us enough to occupy ourselves and we'll content ourselves with that?"

He's looking over Roger's head to their bassist, who looks reluctant to say the least but is willing to agree. "He was-" A lot of words come to Roger's mind and he fears for a moment, as he would reasonably in any of his past relations, of being to complementary. But if anything, it would only spur the boys on to being even better, more enthusiastic lovers. He has nothing to fear from this family they've made for themselves. "Great. Very enthusiastic, passionate and yet rather considerate." For fuck sake if anything his voice sounds even more wrecked now than it did before although he's not sure if its from the blowjob or all the moaning he did when getting railed.

The lift finally arrives and they all shuttle into the large cabin for the relatively long trip down, taking the stairs would normally be much faster. "Yeah? He a good fuck then? You'd let him fuck you again?" Deaky bites out the crass language. His frustration is not from Harris being good or better than him, it's more of a Deaky wants some relieve right now and it is being denied to him.

But Roger- Well he can't help but to like the thought, the idea alone which he would never condone in practice, of cheating on his lovers. As though he was such a slut that not even three lovers was enough to satisfy him. And now they've found out and are about to punish him, show him exactly how desperate slutty boys deserve to be treated. 

"Uh-" Roger is thus distracted by that train of thought but Brian pinches him where his muffin top normally is, guess there's a benefit to the shorts after all despite the carpet burns starting to show on his knees. Roger remembers the consequences of not talking enough and the emergency stop button seems to be taunting him, red and pulsing in his field of vision. Desperate and feeling the pressure he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, "He's huge!"

Deaky and Brian just blink at this while Freddie cackles. "Oh? Bigger than Dicky Deaky?" Freddie teases as he throws an arm around their bassist using the nickname that does technically refer to his middle name of Richard. "So Harris is a real 'member' too?" Freddie continues with Ratty's nickname that also implies Deacon's size.

"I- Well I didn't exactly whip out a measuring tape so I can't be sure," he tries not to snap, normally so quick to temp but this whole day has left him more exposed than a live wire. He slumps his shoulders and admits, "But it definitely wider, real girth."

Roger clears his throat as he tries to concentrate. "Didn't make me deep throat him, didn't ask, didn't try."

"Must have heard how wrecked your voice is my darling boy and decided you'd probably already been through the wringer," Freddie teases and Roger can feel it like a hot breath at his nape. It's true but the idea of being that used and noticeably wrecked did something to Roger deep inside. His cock was too spend to get hard but that didn't stop the lust that seemed to flood through his veins nor his hole from clenching desperately. At that movement he could feel the slippery wet of the lube starting to pool at his rim and trickle out. Fuck, fuck. 

He tries to focus on the details the boys would like to know rather than what stands out clearly in Roger's mind like how easily and casual Harris forced him lower on his drum stool while Roger was powerless to do anything but fall. "He was so strong, just lifted me into position and then-"

"Did he fuck you hard? After all your poor ass has been through today did he fuck you mercilessly?" Deaky asked with smolder. Roger is helpless but to bite his lip and nod, Brian might have been right that being over sensitive made him louder not quieter.

"I'm sure you enjoyed that," Brian said and then Roger couldn't hold back that whimper. Brian's rare but observational dirty talk always seems to push him over when he's heard such a litany from the other boys. 

He bits down on his lip but its clear the boys still want more from him, which he must give them as to be the good boy worthy of Deaky's kindness. "Yeah. He didn't even ask me to get on my knees, he just yanked down and then swiped out his dick, he was so desperate for it, he-"

The lift doors open and Roger snaps his mouth shut. There's no one there, no one waiting for the lift and yet Roger feels as though there are a thousand potential eyes to see him and ears to hear him. It makes him clammy and nervous but the fact that his boys are there to safety guide and protect him make it feel rather like heat melting his bones.

It's such a weird head space because of how contradictory it makes him feel. Roger gets turned on by being watching, and a big part of that is the shame, the humiliation of being seen. And yet for him to feel this humiliation, he must feel this terrible, negative shame. Much like a masochistic that gets turned on by pain, it wouldn't work if the pain is not hurtful. 

Luckily he's been with his lovers long enough that they know this about him and how to balance his behavior as they escort him to Deaky's van. The garage is full of cars and yet deserted of people this early in the work day. While John is always the one that drives, normally one of the boys sits shotgun, however this time they shuffle into the backseat, pinning Roger in the middle seat.

"So he has a big cock, and he's strong. You must have loved that, did he give it to you good?" Freddie asked as Deaky sped out of the parking garage. Their lead singer had an arm casually flung around Roger's shoulder like he might any day with anyone but his other hand pets suggestively over Roger's pec, making sure to grind the heel of his hand over Roger's nipple. 

Brian is also touching Roger, although less suggestively, his hand gently petting Roger's thigh as though he's he's an animal about to lose it and bite. Roger licks his lips and tries to focus on the memories made hazy by his mindset and the lust he felt when they were happening. "Yeah, he- He didn't hold back. He really- well I'm pretty confident he's interested in doing it again."

"Oh, yeah?" Brian asked as his hand reached the top of Roger's thigh and he started to snake his long guitarist fingers under the helm of his shirt, skating over his soft curves. "I'm happy you enjoyed yourself, of course you know I always am," the worst about what Brian says is that, unlike Deaky and Freddie who tease and taunt, he's completely honest which means whatever he's going to say next, Roger is going to have to live with. "But now that you've let your roadie, our roadie, fuck you in our studio, in the middle of our work day, we get to take you home and remind you exactly to whom you belong."

Roger gulps. Deaky pulls up to their flat's parking spot in what must surely be record time. Looking like he didn't heed the speeding limit. The look in their bassist's eyes is that of determination and want. While Roger was proud of his ability to be composed and work hard, maybe toying and denying his lover had been a bad idea.

The van door opens and they shuffle back out. In that little time, Deaky clears the round of the van from the driver's seat and takes a firm hold of Roger by the arm. Without the plug impending his progress, they can quickly make their way back home. That's not to say that Roger doesn't feel the effects of his birthday present. The ache that remains in his throat and can be heard when he speaks, the bruises on his knees, the limp in his walk, the ache in his ass. Really it is as though every step is to remind him of all that has happened.

Or perhaps to foreshadow what has still yet to come. They step into their flat, remove their shoes and then Freddie locks the door behind them, trapping Roger here surrounded by his gorgeous, passionate, denied lovers. He gulps, knowing this is of his own doing. Knowing what will come next will be as terrible as it will be wonderful and he couldn't be more pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what I'm doing for the ending so there should only be 4-5 more chapters


	17. Chapter 17

Roger is practically quaking as Deaky crowds him against the wall, grabbing him tightly by the hips and thrusting his tongue deep into the drummer's mouth. Roger can do nothing but take it as he is snogged senseless, only Deaky's firm grip keeping him in place and not melting to the floor. When Deaky finally lets up Roger remerges desperately gulping at the air, looking around almost frantically, his other two boys watching him.

"Is something the matter lovie?" Freddie croons from where he has his hands possessively on Brian.

Roger almost lowers his eyes in shame. As passionate and amazing as that kiss was Roger remains very much soft. His heart is still willing, more than, he'd love for his boys to use him beyond his tolerance, to wreck him and leave him little more than a mess in their sheets, but he feels like he's failing them. "I just- I'm happy- Hell I'm eager to get wrecked by Deaks," he licks his lips just thinking about it, "But I don't- I don't want to disappoint."

Deaky cradles his face tenderly, alluding to the soft aftercare Roger knows his loving boys will bestow upon him, "If you've had enough for today, we can entertain ourselves."

Roger shakes his head, but god if he wasn't feeling up to it he'd love to watch that sight, that desperate need, them practically tearing each other apart. "No, that's not-" He doesn't know how to thread the very real truth that he has had enough for today twice over and the fact that he still wants more. "I just... don't want to disappoint."

"It's not like we've never fucked you in-" Freddie gestures vaguely before ticking off on his fingers, "Subspace, half-sleep, fully asleep at least in the beginning, high, drunk, jet lagged."

Ah, yes well certainly his ability to be little more than a wet hole for them to use will be a factor as it often is, and as Roger must confess he loves that. Being nothing more than a pillow princess that just lays there and takes is most definitely a recurring role of his during sex. But that's not what he's talking about, he cuts a shy look at Brian before staring at the floor, "That's not actually what I meant, I-" He rubs at his already mussed hair. 

His tongue feels thick in his mouth and he didn't think it was still possible at this point but he can feel his cheeks redding in a painful blush. He speaks halting and quietly, but not so that his three lovers won't hear him. "I'm so stretched, I'm leaking, I'm completely-" He can't even- Putting it into words is such a heady feeling, "loose." 

John inhales sharply while Freddie lunges forward to grab a hold of Roger by his meaty thigh, "Leaking right now? Right into your pants?"

Roger nods meekly, he can't bare to look any of them in the eyes right now. His body can't seem to get hard anymore but that isn't stopping his mind or the feelings. He doesn't know what's getting to him more, the idea that they will want him even if he is loose from getting fucked by another man, or that they wouldn't want him if he's been so fucked. They're both so- Almost like raining molten lava running through him.

Even Brian speaks up, "So John's toy was really keeping you all plugged up then." 

"Bedroom now," John barks and Roger tries his best to hurry along after them but Freddie just scoops him up, tosses him over his shoulder and takes the half dozen steps to the bedroom before throwing him down on the bed. The mattress is padded obviously but Roger still lands on his arse with enough force to make him groan in equal parts pleasure and pain. Freddie leers down at him while Brian makes quick work of prepping the bed, get their lube out to warm and then stripping off his own clothes.

"I can't believe you, you, you absolute slut," John can't even find words as his passion is boiling over and as volatile as this stage is Roger has learned of the calm that might well come next. John tends to run very hot and cold when it comes to passion in the bedroom. He likes to rant and rave before settling down like a King of ice upon his throne. 

"We went so soft and easy on you, poor boo had had enough. Didn't even *touch* you in the elevator, didn't stuff that treacherous hole of yours with the plug. God, fuck. As much as I'd love to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, getting you back down on your knees where a slut like you belongs and stretching your lady-lips around my cock, I wouldn't want to wreck your voice, well more than I already have." And like a blanket, a terrifying blanket, calm comes down around Deaky. He strips off to just his pants and drags their lounge chair to best sit and watch. Roger was still fully dress and placed a questioning hand on his shirt which John just waved away, "I've waited this long, I think I can wait a little longer." 

He shoots a dangerous look, full of scorching fire, at Brian who now stands there naked, hard and ready, while Freddie has only just started with his fly. "You're going to prepare Freddie." Freddie looks up, as delights as the cat that got the cream.

And so Brian steps in to strip Freddie, always a delicious sight but whenever Roger looks away it is always to see John staring right back at him. He gulps and can do nothing but lie back down as a naked Freddie is made to lay on his stomach next to him. Now it is only Roger who was dressed, fully dressed. 

Brian goes to grab the lube and then hesitates with a hand over Freddie's delectable arse. Their guitarist shoots a look at John which Roger can not see, to which Deaky gives a benevolent wave. Brian in his turn gives that most wicked of orders. "Freddie I want you on all fours," sounds normal enough but then- "Good, now straddle Roger."

Freddie isn't touching him but he is only a few inches apart from him. All that beautiful fleshing with its thick coat of hair so tantalizingly close and yet not touching. They are practically sharing breathes as Freddie stares down at him, through brown eyes seeming burrowing deep into his soul and then-

Freddie throws his head back, moaning loudly. Roger can't see from where he is trapped under the singer but he is sure that Brian's long fingers has started their skillful work. Roger's own body is growing hot, he can feel sweat start to cling to his clothing. He wants nothing more than to rip them off. He wants to feel close to him, to them, and what they are doing, rather than be separated by those few inches and this barrier of clothing like he's just a spectator, like he doesn't matter to them. Roger can feel one part of Freddie is dangling down and pressing up against him. The singer's arousal quickly grows where it rests against his shirt. Fuck he can even feel the precum wetting the cotton.

The sight is so- everything really. He loves to watch the others and wonders if that's what he looks like when he is being screwed. Yet he can't help but to be jealous that it isn't him. Still this is Freddie, whom he loves and wants to shower in affection.

John, of course, from his perch is watching this all and thus sees, speaking out, "Bri hon, Roger looks like he wants something." 

Brian uses one hand, the one not knuckles deep in Freddie, to haul their singer up against his chest and peer over his shoulder at the wrecked man underneath. "Aw, is that right? Am I neglecting the birthday boy on his special day, can't have that?" It- That tone is almost downright mean by Brian's standards.

Roger has no idea what he's going to say, something, anything but Brian just lowers Freddie back down. Freddie hangs there, over him again, elbows locked until a hand in the center of Freddie's back pushes him down. Roger does not struggle under the weight though every breath feels more difficult. Freddie does not move his torso but lifts and tilts enough to look into their drummer's baby blues. "I- please sir, sirs, can I kiss him?" Freddie asks staring intently at Roger, brushing one hand lightly through his blond locks. 

"Sure," Brian answers as he starts to grab at Roger's waist. It takes Roger a moment to realise what he's doing because Freddie is kissing him with such fervour and passion as his dick grinds down onto him, or rather onto his clothes. Roger can barely feel him but for the growing desperation and yet still it's stirring something in him. He didn't think he still had it in him but apparently all that time without the plug, the tail-end of their time in the studio and the car journey over, has provided enough time for his body to recover. At least enough for him to get hard again.

It starts only with a faint stirring, nothing more than a twitch but that's when he realises what Brian is doing. He tries to break away from the kiss but Freddie refuses to outright relent, nibbling at his jaw and tugging at his earlobe. Brian has half slid Roger down from Freddie, which is why the singer's dick is now rather pressed against his belly button rather than its counterpart. Freddie's legs are to either side of his body, bracketing his hips, leaving it relatively easy for their guitarist to get at Roger's waist and to finally -finally!- take off his clothes.

Brian slides Roger's shorts and pants only to half way down his thighs before lifting them up and over, nearly folding him in half over Freddie. Roger's legs are pinned together by the clothing around his thighs and so Brian must grab at one of his cheeks to spread his ass apart and expose his hole. "You really are leaking," Brian says as John deigns to get up long enough to see the pretty view. Roger can feel the cold air on that most private part of himself as well as the sticky mess that has leaked out.

"Naughty boy," Freddie teases as he stops giving sucking bites to Roger's neck and grinding down against him to look behind. From that vantage Freddie can't see Roger's leaking hole for himself but he reaches out to tug at Roger's clothing. Exposing where their drummer leaked through his pants but not yet through his shorts. If they'd left him like that any longer-

Fuck but Roger can feel his dick stir again as his hole clenches down around nothing, he's been stuffed most of the day but god is he craving it again, to be filled and used so by his boys. Many things go through Roger's mind, muddled by the hazy fog of lust descending on him again as he reaches out to lock lips with Freddie that he doesn't even consider the possibility until-

He doesn't know, he can't see from this position if it's Deaky or Brian and the first is small so Roger just assume its a finger going in oddly, perhaps a thumb. But then following the vibrating egg, is the now relubed plug being shoved once again deep into him. "Ah-" Roger can't even vocalize as Brian unfolds him, laying his legs back down on the bed, and of course as his body is shifted so drastically, the growing ever so familiar sensation of plug jolts around inside of him sets his nerves tingling. 

He can do nothing but moan into Freddie's mouth as the singer continues to work himself up right on top of Roger's body, shifting the plug about even more. He can't even get leverage with the fabric partly immobilizing his legs. He just grasps at Freddie, one hand in his hair, one on his back. Freddie groans into his mouth, is he being stretched some more? 

Screams are ripped out of both of them simultaneously, Freddie is desperate and needy while Roger's is rawer, over sensitive even if it no longer borders on painful. Fuck, fuck, Freddie grinds down into him with such fervour, as the vibator works away at him too. "Is that better? Sure we aren't neglecting the birthday boy now," John taunts. He's no longer on the lounge chair but rather circling Brian where he stands at the end of the bed like predator. He's waiting for something, something good and Roger is terrified with thrilled anticipation.

John places a hand on the small of Brian's back and leads him to kneel on the bed next to the two of them. He then places his other hand on Freddie, feeling him writhe. He looks over Freddie's shoulder to Roger, tired and laying there rather limply but still very much enjoying himself. Which is when, rather than waiting to see whatever his lovers had in mind, Freddie squeals like a delighted child upon receiving a puppy. He half lifted himself off of Roger's torso, shifting his weight to his hips, grinding his dick into Roger's hardening cock, "And here I thought you were all tuckered out."

"Oh?" John questions while Brian's face rather lights up sweetly chirping the question of, "Are you getting hard again love?" To which John replies with a more definite, "Oh."

Roger nods almost shyly. The upside of having been teased and set on edge so relentlessly throughout the day and thus coming from so little is that at least his cock isn't chafing.


	18. Chapter 18

Judging by how he's licking his lips and snapping his jowls he's considering going down on their guitarist. And of course, Deaky would love to get a blow job from that talented mouth or even finally use that delightful winking leaking hole, but there's something else he has in mind than spitroasting. Something else that is possible with Roger hardening again. 

Brian graciously moves aside so that Deaky has more access, Freddie moaning as the long fingers leave him. Deaky trails a finger between his two beautiful boys, where Freddie's fully erect cock is grinding against Roger's, then back out and up, up along Freddie's taint and to his hole. He pokes at it with his shorn nail, just teasing the rim that will not accept him without more lube for all that Brian was just in him. No, without a plug stretching him all day or multiple rounds, Freddie's hole isn't quite there so fast. 

Deaky merely looks at Brian for him to know, they've done this enough for words to be unnecessary. Freddie moans appreciatively as fingers reenter him, grinding down and panting again on Roger that whimpers. "I was thinking- if you're hard again, that allows for new possibilities," Deaky speaks slowly, clearly enunciating as his fingers went to Roger's rim, teasing and poking at the stuffed hole. 

Roger shakes and shutters from the touches, even as Freddie squirms on top of him. John bites his lip as he appreciates- the sight, the sound, all of it. He loves his boys so much, and there's nothing like having them all at once. Fortunately by its nature, their work keeps them together most of the time, but they don't always have time for the four of them to devote themselves like this. It's fortunate that this year for his birthday they could, so Deaky is sure to appreciate it when they do. 

His free hand grips at Roger's locks, angling the drummer away from his attempted snogging session with their singer, their lips weren't exactly making contact rather kissing and licking at each other's salty skin. Roger's eyes are blown and dazed, much like they have been all day, even when he wasn't actively getting hard. It was more a question of headspace than actual lust although he doesn't normally spend so much time in it. 

But of course today is an extra special occasion, Roger has been good enough to let them take him apart, teasing him, torturing him to and past the point of overstimulation. He'd seemed to be rising from the fog as they left the plug out, finished their work and returned to their flat, so Deaky is happy to see how easily and quickly it has returned. Not that they hadn't been trying their best to hinder Roger with their words in the lift and ride home. 

Roger tries to focus, blinking rapidly, "I- could I-," he stammers as he licks his lips suggestively. 

"You could get blown, but that's not what I had in mind," Deaky replies honestly. Freddie and Brian stop moving, the latter with his four fingers still deep inside the former. "Mmmm, how does that sound?" Deaky taunts, pretty sure that Roger's processing power is shot to all hell making it impossible for him to do anything but follow and obey blindly even as he doesn't understand.

He's right as Roger answers, "Yes, yes good, anything sir."

Deaky tsks as Brian leaves Freddie hole wet and gapping, "How many times have you come today and you still want more?"

Roger's expression freezes as he doubts, wondering, fearing if he should placate with something like 'whatever makes my Doms happy,' but instead Roger, wisely, chooses to say nothing. Deaky nods, content.

Freddie takes this as his cue to move but John stills him with a hand on his back. Not until he gives the order. "Roger, I'm going to leave that plug inside of you, keep you full and stuffed. So you're going to get stimulated some other way," Now John removes his hand, and Freddie can move, placing his thighs on either side of Roger and sitting up. 

Roger just lies there mouth wide open, staring at where Freddie is posed to lower himself on his harding cock. He's not a full mast yet but with the delicious sensation of Freddie engulfing him it won't take much longer. Brian and Deaky share a look, clearly both amused by Roger's expression. Slowly but surely Freddie lowers himself onto Roger's length. His pace is not to tease Roger, although it does, it's merely for the singer to get accustomed to it. He hasn't been stretched and used all day so his hole is- fresh. Fresh compare to Roger's sloppy hole that is presently would be leaking if not plugged back up.

Roger whimpers and nearly cries as Freddie rides him masterfully. Freddie isn't remotely as exhausted as their drummer and so easily can maintain a decent speed and depth as his thighs piston powerfully.

Deaky wraps a hand around Brian, palming him. He could give him a skillful hand job but that would be a waste of the far more capable and willing things in stored. He just gives the guitarist enough sensation to tingle his nerves and hitch his breath. Brian returns in kind working at Deaky's nipples, thumb at them and squeezing at his pecs. At the beginning some of them were surprised because of some incorrectly held-beliefs that just because John was more traditionally masculine or dominating, he wouldn't be sensitive there.

This isn't the case which somehow makes Brian feel even more ashamed that his aren't particularly sensitive. Although the boys have been able to heighten his sensitivity by playing with his nipples, they won't change him and love him just the way he is even if they are all different with different needs. Deaky treasures the uniqueness of each of his boys, as he is sure they treasure him for his individuality. He can't help but to kiss Brian, at least for a moment, as he thinks about that.

It's not in character for the scene but thankful those two are so lost in each other they wouldn't notice if the tooth fairy herself came to visit. He turns his attention back to them, his arousal now like a constant blazing fire in his chest. They look gorgeous like that, like chocolate and vanilla, the black of Freddie's hair tangle with the blond of Roger's, as they make gorgeous moans.

Deaky claps, the loud sharp in the room, even above their panting and sliding flesh. Freddie stills himself with difficulty, his cock hard and leaking onto Roger's belly. "S-Sir?" Freddie practically begs, clearly needing more. 

"Dismount," Deaky replies unmoved by what Freddie *thinks* he wants. He always treats his boys good- well, not good, but bad just as they want, need to be treated. Which is also why they obey him.

Roger whines as Freddie's body heat and weight leave him, obviously too far gone for words. Deaky can only imagine, not only did Freddie fuck himself on Roger while he wore a plug, but that was on top of everything he went through today. Deaky turns away from a clearly well fucked, and spaced out Roger, to look at Freddie, hesitantly kneeling there but desperately wanting more. 

He smirks, letting Freddie watch the expression grow. The shiver that passes through the singer is unspeakably rewarding as Deaky can feel his cock pulse, soon. "On all fours," Deaky commands with absolute authority as he points back to Roger.

Freddie is nervous, with thrilling anticipation just like with a big concert. It's rare for them to be so all in this together and so all the more a treat. Freddie gets on all fours, making sure his legs are well parted and his arse is canted up, presenting his wet, stretched, fucked hole. Deaky practically growls as he mounts up, sliding into Freddie's heat in one long slide. "Fuck!"

Deaky revels in it for a moment, there's nothing as good as his boys. And here Freddie is loose and prepped from Brian and Roger without him having to lift a single finger himself. Yet at the same time Deaky is larger than Roger, and the most of all the boys, which means he can feel Freddie having to still stretch further still to accept his cock. Freddie groans as he pushes back, his muscles doing their best to relax.

Once they have Deaky grabs Freddie by the hips and starts giving it to him real good. Freddie moans in absolutely delight at finally getting it good and proper, far more forceful than anything he could get himself from riding Roger, not to mention this position was so much better for hitting his prostate. Roger could do nothing but gasp and whimper as he watched the show from so very up close, yet not being touched, not even a finger.

Which of course is when Brian comes in. Just a shared looked with Deaky says they've made him wait long enough and Brian reaches. He slowly pulls the plug and vibe out. Roger moans and whimpers as his hole hopelessly tries to flutter down around them. He claws at the sheets as Freddie tries not to drool at the gorgeous sight under him. 

Then Brian abandons John to maneuvers himself to the top of the bed to Roger's face. Again Roger licks his lips, opening his mouth, ready to be taking it from everywhere. But he's wrong, Brian doesn't lower himself on his face. Instead of giving Roger his cock or even his rim, Brian hauls Roger up by his shoulders. Roger tries to be helpful, sitting up on his elbows his face suddenly very close to Freddie's. Freddie strikes taking Roger's mouth and biting down as his tongue plunders its depth. 

Roger moans as he does his best to keep focus. He groans as he feels Brian's body slide down under him, there's enough space under Freddie's body for both of them but- Roger thrashes his head as he understand, the feelings lighting him up. Brian's cock is at his entrance, pushing into him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Roger does his best to breath as he is sandwiched from both sides, Deaky still fucking into Freddie.

Brian is trying his best but from this vantage, it's hard. Hard to get a good angle, hard to maintain good speed or depth. And honestly, while even that little is too much for Roger, it is not enough for Brian that desperately wants more. As the original members of Smile try to figure themselves out, Deaky is bring Freddie closer and closer, evident by his loud moans- practically screaming. 

"Here," John says gruffly, not nearly as close as the man he is railing. He reaches out to grab Roger by the shoulders, pushing him against Freddie. He has them sit up, Brian following. They all tilt 90 degrees until Deaky and Brian are settled on the bed with Freddie and Roger respectively on their laps, the two chest to chest, legs tangled. The tops on the outside with their delicious chocolate and vanilla as the filling. Freddie whines as he clings to Roger in this position. He isn't getting it as hard like this but he's in freefall bouncing with every stroke. It rattles through his body, his hard cock bobbing and grinding against Roger's sparse body hair, smearing his precum against the drummer's happy trail.

But while Freddie is getting 'less,' Roger is getting more. Even so he's still so far from his next orgasm, having had so much already today. Yet- They're too close together for Roger to reach that far down but he can use his mouth on Freddie's pecs, tonguing at his nipples. "AHH!" The singer is so so very close, clutching at Roger's hair painfully, tugging it just the way he loves.

Roger smirks, because for once today it's not him, he thinks as he bites down. Freddie yells, coming with enough force that Roger can feel it paint the underside of his jaw. As much as he clenches down on Deaky, it's not enough for the bassist, that has waited too long to be satisfied with something so quick. The belief that Deaky wrote misfire about himself is of course silly, and his iron control is if anything the thing of legends. 

Roger certainly finds himself enjoying it, although on a day like today where is so exhausted he finds it daunting. Yet at the very same time, it means that Deaky will just be using him at that point. Roger's not close to coming even with Brian fucking him but the fact that he's gotten hard again means that he probably can and will come one last time. But after that the birthday boy will be little more than a warm willing hole for John to use. The idea itself is hot but in a different way. Or maybe Roger is right, and they will push him down so that his mouth can be used again. Somehow he doubts that John would be satisfied with just his mouth after using it earlier and being teased all day- 

Roger gasps. Freddie can't see from where he's leaning against Roger's chest. Roger clutches onto Freddie as his eyes go wide, the white clearly visible all around his eyes. He doesn't move, he doesn't dare breathe. Clearly something is happening, so Freddie resettles his legs to get leverage and look around. John's hand is reaching around Roger to- Freddie gasps in his turn as he slowly looks to Roger, daring the drummer to confirm it.

Roger whimpers as he bites down on his lip, he might has well have 'slut' flashing in neon on his forehead. "Oh. My. Fucking. Lord," Freddie drops each words like daggers to Roger's heart. Holy shit, Roger might well explode. It's beyond any physical pleasure, but the thought of his boys seeing this threatens to overwhelm him. Even if once the orgasm will come and pass, he will live with this forever, and how it felt in the moment. Truly a birthday memory he won't forget.

And then- And then Deaky adds another finger along side Brian's cock. The angle could not be more awkward for Deaky's wrist but it's definitely worth it. Even after everything they've put Roger through today, to see how viscerally he reacts. Freddie realises he's in the way- well not in the way, his boys will always want him here in the thick of things but literally where John would like to pass-so he scooches back. Away from Roger and so his back is flushed to John's chest. 

He then grabs the bassist's hand to guide it but Deaky has caught on, sliding under Roger's drained sack with only a mere nudge before entering the hole from this side. Freddie slides his limbs out so that Deaky's dick too will be able to reach, because that's what's going to happen. Deaky is going to fuck him- while Brian is also fucking him. They are going to put both of their dicks inside of Roger. Stretch him so wide and stuff him so full, absolutely wreck that needy little hole of his. 

Freddie curls around Deaky's back, in a perfect position to see and feel everything even if he himself won't get hard again. Deaky is up to three fingers now and it is beyond a stretch. Brian thrusts in slowly, shallowly, sweat beading on his forehead as he does his best to hold on. Roger is concerned he won't stretch anymore than that, especially for Deaky's large size, and is simply at his limit. Freddie notices this too and so teases, "Maybe next time, you'll have to get him a bigger plug."

"Ggg-uhg," Roger wordlessly grunts out as his hips rock against them. Motherfucker.

"It's not just a question of size," Deaky states ironically the biggest of the quartet. "They also come heavier, densier like dumbells, meant to weaken the muscles from inside and open you up."

Roger whimpers again as he feels Deaky's pinky tugging at his rim. Freddie smirks widely, "Shame Christmas is so many months from now. John when's your birthday?" As though he- they didn't all know that his was the next one. 

John just laughs lowly not saying anything. Fuck, the idea both terrifies and thrills Roger. Surely he could do something like this if he has over a month to recover? That would be long enough... surely?

And then- while Roger has that intense thought, Deaky's fingers slide out. Roger instinctively clenches down on Brian's length left inside of him, he's so out of it and his poor arse has been through so much, he can't even tell if he's able to close it. Then of course, Deaky is there, the bulbous head of his large cock pressing against his hole, pushing at his rim. Roger's mouth pops opened and he can do nothing to close it, just breathing steadily through his mouth. It feels as though his lungs can't fill, as though his guts are so filled it is pressing against the whole of his torso immobilizing him. 

Somehow, someway Roger does actually adjust to the massive size inside of him. He is able to breathe again even as his hole flutters to try and close back up. It's not- It could never be normal but it's not painful, if anything it's overwhelming. On top of how overwhelming everything else today already was. 

"-think 'm gonna pass out," Roger slurs as he tries to cling to whoever is in front of him. Deaky? Yes right yes, this lean yet hairless frame must be Deaky's, Freddie's head is just about because the singer is pressed up against Deaky's back. 

Freddie reaches out to cradle Roger's face tenderly even though the drummer is pretty sure he was saying filthy comments just before. "That's alright love, if you do we'll be here to catch you, you've been through a lot." Roger vaguely nods, his head more jostled by the boys thrusting in and out of him- when had they started doing that? The feelings- the everything, it's so much, too much, he can't do anything but cling on as they use him. And oh, what an amazing feeling. 

He just loves being used, to be so clearly useful, have a purpose, and easily fulfill it. To be successful really. And because of that success to be loved and cherished. It's little wonder he wanted to become a rockstar, but to be the lover of three such talented, beautiful, amazing boys that's the real wonder. Sure they say he's pretty himself and talented but it's so hard to believe when they have so much power over him, can so easily and skillfully take him apart. But it must be true, that once they are done here, he will again be that man that makes them so happy, makes them laugh and smile. He just has to trust in his doms and let them.

With his body this over sensitized, it's hard to even process what he's feeling, making it all the easier for him to sink into his head space as his boys enjoy him. They're so large inside of him, moving at a different rhythm so it alternates between them both being inside of him versus a give and take. Their hands on his body, their words in his ear and their heat seeping into him like their love. 

The boys were already close from fucking him solo and Freddie, so it won't take much longer now judging by how they grow increasingly erratic. Freddie is the only level headed one of the four, his mind not addled by lust and so he reaches out and grabs Roger's cock in one hand, stroking it. Fuck! He's already come so much today, but he does think he has one more orgasm left in him, it's just going to take everything out of him. 

Freddie's voice comes to him again, drifting as though from very far away, but the hand on his cock serves as an anchor, and he is able to will himself into listening. "What if," Freddie taunts wickedly once Roger's baby blues focus on him. He inserts the thumb of his free hand into Roger's mouth and pressing down on his tongue, "You were to take all three of us inside of you." He adds his other fingers far enough to make Roger choke, and make his words perfectly clear. 

Roger's mind just blanks. He can't possibly take more and yet- The very idea. He clenches down quickly as he whimpers, his mind feels like it's stuffed with cotton as his veins feel filled with fire. "Ah, fuck," Brian says as he thrusts in little shallow aborted movements. 

"He'd look gorgeous like that Fred," Deaky pants out as he reaches over to grab Brian by the arse and literally shove him deeper into Roger. Brian cries out, tears literally leaking from his eyes at the extreme sensation as he blessedly finally comes inside of Roger's overstretched hole. Roger groans but can't seem to manage more. 

The two original members of Smile moan as Deaky's hard length slides against both of them. Brian's cock is rapidly softening, shrinking while remaining hypersensitive to John's thrusts and Roger's clenching hole. It's so much, it's almost too much, but Brian just thinks on the drummer who has endured 'too much' for so long. The least he can do is stay in, Deaky close behind him, hopefully for Roger sake. Roger is sweating buckets, panting loudly between moans, and clearly lost to the world again. It always took them a lot of time and effort to get him to go under, but there was nothing like it. To see the clever, wicked mind of Roger turn off and let the pleasure overcome him. 

For all that he had slowly wandered back to them after they'd taken the plug back and just gotten back to work, he was so easily and quickly able to fall back in. That had never happened before, never so fast and so completely. It is truly a wonder, a gift, and it's all because of Roger. Because Roger is willing to give himself so completely to them, to let them toy and overstimulate him so. For all that it is Roger's birthday and the present was for the drummer, they have certainly been enjoying it just as much. 

Brian's slowly comes down from that unbelievable high to look into Freddie's eyes. For all that Fred isn't hard again so soon, the lust is clear as it takes over his brown eyes turning them black. He's clearly enjoying the pretty picture they must make. Roger and Brian all fucked out, panting, sighing, and leaning on each other. Freddie's gaze lingers on him for a moment more before flicking his eyes back to Roger, keeping up his creative dirty talk.

Oh right. Brian can remember vividly how it feels to have those dark eyes, that attention carefully and exactly taking you part, to say nothing of Deaky. At least Deaky looks and feels like he's so close, that his normal sharp, biting words are lost to his feral growling and thrusting. Little more than a beast as he rattles the two exhausted men, although of course Brian has gone through nothing compare to Roger. Roger was probably correct when he said he'd pass out, exhausted, drained and really only being kept up by Brian and John's bodies.

The drummer's grown hard again, although God only knows how that's possible. Still he needs a little push. Not that Freddie is not in every way capable, his fingers distending Roger's cheeks . "Do you think you could take a fist?" Freddie asks, and Brian is sure he isn't referring to Roger's widely stretched mouth. If he can take two dicks, it's possible though they'd need to stretch him alot. The dazed blond makes a wordless noise around Freddie's digits as he tries to suck on them. Even when fucked this hard, Roger is still trying. But he doesn't need to.

Could that really be it? Brian knows how much his three lovers enjoy dirty talk, but it's not really his strong suit, still that doesn't mean Brian can't play the game. "Fuck, fuck," Brian heaves as he winds his long arms around the pair. His front pressed to Roger's back, feeling not only his sweating skin, but his desperately panting ribcage. "Deaky giving it to you good darling?" Brian tries out, clearly channeling some Freddie that throws him a little saucy wink. Brian can feel himself blush as his shy nature baulks at this kind of talk.

Best he just try to stick to the facts, thankfully the facts are themselves very sexy. "Deaky feels so big inside of you, so hard and God- how it felt to have him stretching you when I was inside, I could feel your hole tightening around me."

"Yeah? And how did it feel to have his hard length press against you, sliding and rubbing, like frottage inside of Roger?" Freddie asks as his hands continued to pet Roger's chest, scratching at his nipples, but always returning to his erection. 

"Go-Good," Brian tries to reply in his best husky voice, it's remarkably easier once he's fucked hard enough to scream. "You felt so good, you both did," Brian says looking up at Deaky, that barely seems able to make eye contact let alone understand words. Still, just because he's a dom doesn't mean he doesn't need appreciation too even if he hasn't endured like Roger has. That special little birthday boy should have been more carefully of what he wished for, getting all of their attention all day might have proved a little too much.

Brian can't look at Roger from behind but he can look at Deaky and touch Roger, let him know he is thinking of him too as he says, "It was good, so good. You felt amazing. Easily some of the best, top ten at least," they groan and react to his words, reassuring him that he is heard, he looks up at Freddie. Freddie seems intrigued and pleased with Brian's words but doesn't yet know where the guitarist is going with them. "Not just so talented and lovely with these gorgeous bodies, no it felt so good because, I just love you so much."

Roger wails as his body tries to bend in half backwards his chest jutting out as his cock spurts feebly, John's thrust irregular and shallow like someone coming, but Brian can't feel it for how wet Roger's insides are. Not just Brian's latest load or lube, but all the loads they've given him all day, enough that without the plug he was literally leaking. 

Roger's weight falls upon Brian who easily cradles him in his arms, his height is enough for him to look around at Roger's face. His body slacked, his face relaxed, and his eyes closed. Freddie is still looking at Brian, his jaw hanging open, surprised but thrilled by where Brian chose to take that. "I love you too," Brian says softly as his words hadn't made it particularly clear if he was including him.

Freddie smiles bashfully. "You sap," he whispers back still clearly pleased and happy regardless. Deaky stirs, tired and slowly coming down from his orgasm, his erection shrinking next to Brian's where they are still both in side of him, but nowhere near as tired. Slowly he slides out of Roger who groans but does not wake, followed by Brian. For all that their cocks are much smaller now that they are soft, they still pull and stretch at the rim. When Brian's tip is out he feels the wetness coming out, practically pouring from the hole that took two dicks. 

Quickly, but gently, Brian moves out of the way to lay Roger down, sliding a pillow under the drummer's hips to elevate him, and keep some of it in without putting the plug back in. Although he must say he's tempted. Roger's had enough but still the thought is so hot. If Roger stays in bed, then the plug won't move around so much and it might not be too overwhelming. 

"Wow, he's still so open," Freddie says as he looks between Roger's legs at the gaping hole slowly trickling thick globs of cum. "I wonder what it would feel like to fuck him like this, when he's so open." 

Deaky laughs quietly, in a good mood after such a great fuck. "We'll ask him when he wakes up but my understanding was you wanted to give him your presents now and cake?"

They nod, Freddie still thinking about it. Maybe... maybe he'd want that for himself, that much excessive seems... positively sinful in the best of ways. He'll have to bring it up to the boys but he's sure they'll be game, some other day, some other time. When they get bored and want to try something new. "I'm afraid I didn't get him anything as good as yours," Freddie needles in a faux haughty tone.

Deaky has no shame, that kinky little shit, "Maybe next time you should."

The cake is in the fridge where they left it, this year it's store bought, they know better that to try themselves. Brian removes the foil while Deaky lines up the candles. But they don't light them just yet, they get everything ready, the presents placed on the bed like weird but colorful teddy bears, and wait for Roger to wake. 

Freddie's kind of surprised Roger doesn't just sleep right through the night after all he's been through but in twentyish minutes he comes to. Stirring adorably and fluttering his long lashes. Deaky's lighter is put to far better use than cigarettes and the cake is presented to Roger as Brian helps him sit up like an invalid, propping up pillows behind him. 

Roger aches and groans as he shifts about. Despite that, he looks very content and happy. "Well," Roger says looking at his cake, peering at the white frosting. "What could I wish for when I already have you lot and Queen." Then gets a devilish expression worthy of Freddie at his best. "There's nothing to wish for but for Deaky to have a birthday as good as mine," Roger finishes coyly, looking up at their bassist. Roger won't be able to do anything that strenuous for a while, but maybe by the time Deaky's birthday rolls around... who knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done bitches! and on the year, happy birthday to John Deacon on this day of days, and in honor of both Roger's and TheNightofLand that it is dedicated too. This was my first time writing smut and so much has changed since I started it.

**Author's Note:**

> Pls, any and all feedback / concrit is welcome.


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